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THE LITTLE FLOWERS OF
SAINT FRANCIS
This Edition is limited to 700 copies for Great Britain,
and 500 copies for America
The LITTLE FLOWERS
OF SAINT FRANCIS
BEING A TRANSLATION OF
I FIORETTI DI S. FRANCESCO
BY
THOMAS OKEY \
With Thirty Drawings by
EUGENE BURNAND
LONDON
Aldine House, Bedford Street, W.C.
I. M. DENT ®> SONS LIMITED *,
All Rights Reserved
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION xiii
CHAPTER I
IN THE NAME OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, THE CRUCIFIED, AND OF HIS MOTHER THE
VIRGIN MARY. IN THIS BOOK ARE CONTAINED CERTAIN LITTLE FLOWERS,
MIRACLES, AND DEVOUT ENSAMPLES OF CHRIST'S POOR LITTLE ONE, ST. FRANCIS,
AND OF SOME OF HIS HOLY COMPANIONS ; TO THE PRAISE OF JESUS CHRIST. AMEN I
CHAPTER II
OF FRIAR BERNARD OF QUINTAVALLE, THE FIRST COMPANION OF ST. FRANCIS . . 2
CHAPTER III
HOW ST. FRANCIS, BY REASON OF AN EVIL THOUGHT HE CHERISHED AGAINST FRIAR
BERNARD, COMMANDED THE SAID FRIAR THAT HE SHOULD TREAD THRICE ON HIS
NECK AND MOUTH 5
CHAPTER IV
HOW AN ANGEL OF GOD PUT A QUESTION TO FRIAR ELIAS, WARDEN OF THE FRIARY IN
THE VALE OF SPOLETO, AND BECAUSE FRIAR ELIAS ANSWERED HIM HAUGHTILY,
DEPARTED AND WENT ALONG THE WAY TO ST. JAMES'S, WHERE HE FOUND FRIAR
BERNARD AND TOLD HIM THE STORY 7
CHAPTER V
HOW THE HOLY FRIAR BERNARD OF ASSISI WAS SENT BY ST. FRANCIS TO BOLOGNA, AND
THERE ESTABLISHED A FRIARY IO
CHAPTER VI
HOW ST. FRANCIS BLESSED THE HOLY FRIAR BERNARD AND APPOINTED HIM TO BE HIS
VICAR WHEN HE SHOULD PASS FROM THIS LIFE 12
CHAPTER VII
HOW ST. FRANCIS KEPT LENT ON AN ISLAND IN THE LAKE OF PERUGIA, WHERE HE
FASTED FORTY DAYS AND FORTY NIGHTS, AND ATE NO MORE THAN HALF A LOAF 13
CHAPTER VIII
HOW ST. FRANCIS, AS THEY JOURNEYED TOGETHER, SET FORTH TO FRIAR LEO WHERE
PERFECT JOY WAS TO BE FOUND 14
V
vi CONTENTS
CHAPTER IX
PAGE
HOW ST. FRANCIS TAUGHT FRIAR LEO HOW TO ANSWER HIM, AND FRIAR LEO COULD
NEVER SAY AUGHT SAVE THE CONTRARY OF THAT WHICH ST. FRANCIS BADE HIM
ANSWER l6
CHAPTER X
HOW FRIAR MASSEO, HALF IN JEST, SAID TO ST. FRANCIS THAT THE WHOLE WORLD WAS
FOLLOWING AFTER HIM ; AND ST. FRANCIS ANSWERED THAT BY GOD'S GRACE IT
WAS SO TO THE CONFUSION OF THE WORLD l8
CHAPTER XI
HOW ST. FRANCIS MADE FRIAR MASSEO TURN ROUND AND ROUND MANY TIMES, AND
THEN WENT HIS WAY TO SIENA 19
CHAPTER XII
HOW ST. FRANCIS APPOINTED FRIAR MASSEO TO BE DOORKEEPER, ALMONER, AND COOK :
THEN REMOVED HIM AT THE ENTREATIES OF THE OTHER FRIARS .... 20
CHAPTER XIII
HOW ST. FRANCIS AND FRIAR MASSEO SET DOWN THE BREAD THEY HAD BEGGED ON A
STONE BESIDE A SPRING, AND ST. FRANCIS GREATLY PRAISED POVERTY. THEN HE
PRAYED UNTO GOD AND ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL THAT THEY WOULD INSPIRE HIM
WITH THE LOVE OF HOLY POVERTY ; AND HOW ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL APPEARED
TO HIM 22
CHAPTER XIV
HOW, WHILE ST. FRANCIS AND HIS FRIARS WERE DISCOURSING OF GOD, HE APPEARED
IN THEIR MIDST 24
CHAPTER XV
HOW ST. CLARE ATE WITH ST. FRANCIS AND HIS FELLOW-FRIARS AT ST. MARY OF THE
ANGELS 25
CHAPTER XVI
HOW ST. FRANCIS HAD COUNSEL FROM ST. CLARE AND FROM THE HOLY FRIAR SILVESTER,
TO WIT, THAT HE WAS TO CONVERT MUCH PEOPLE t AND HOW HE ESTABLISHED
THE THIRD ORDER AND PREACHED TO THE BIRDS AND MADE THE SWALLOWS
HOLD THEIR PEACE 26
CHAPTER XVII
HOW A LITTLE BOY FRIAR, WHILE ST. FRANCIS WAS PRAYING BY NIGHT, BEHELD CHRIST
AND THE VIRGIN MARY AND MANY OTHER SAINTS DISCOURSING WITH HIM . . 29
CHAPTER XVIII
OF THE WONDROUS CHAPTER THAT ST. FRANCIS HELD AT ST. MARY OF THE ANGELS,
WHERE MORE THAN FIVE THOUSAND FRIARS WERE ASSEMBLED 30
CONTENTS vii
CHAPTER XIX
PAGE
HOW THE VINEYARD OF THE PARISH PRIEST OF RIETI, IN WHOSE HOUSE ST. FRANCIS
PRAYED, WAS STRIPPED OF ITS GRAPES BY REASON OF THE MULTITUDE OF PEOPLE
THAT CAME TO SEE HIM ; AND HOW THAT VINEYARD BROUGHT FORTH MIRACU-
LOUSLY MORE WINE THAN EVER BEFORE, ACCORDING TO THE PROMISE OF ST.
FRANCIS. AND HOW GOD REVEALED TO ST. FRANCIS THAT PARADISE SHOULD BE
HIS PORTION WHEN HE DEPARTED THIS LIFE . . . . . . . -33
CHAPTER XX
TOUCHING A MOST BEAUTIFUL VISION THAT A YOUNG FRIAR SAW, WHO SO HATED HIS
HABIT THAT HE WAS MINDED TO CAST IT OFF AND FORSAKE THE ORDER . . 35
CHAPTER XXI
OF THE MOST HOLY MIRACLE THAT ST. FRANCIS WROUGHT WHEN HE CONVERTED THE
FIERCE WOLF OF GUBBIO 36
CHAPTER XXII
HOW ST. FRANCIS TAMED THE WILD TURTLE DOVES 39
CHAPTER XXIII
HOW ST. FRANCIS DELIVERED A SINFUL FRIAR FROM THE POWER OF THE DEVIL . . 40
CHAPTER XXIV
HOW ST. FRANCIS CONVERTED THE SOLDAN OF BABYLON TO THE TRUE FAITH . . 40
CHAPTER XXV
HOW ST. FRANCIS MIRACULOUSLY HEALED A LEPER, BODY AND SOUL, AND WHAT THAT
SOUL SAID TO HIM ON HER WAY TO HEAVEN . . .• 42
CHAPTER XXVI
HOW ST. FRANCIS CONVERTED THREE MURDEROUS ROBBERS THAT BECAME FRIARS ;
AND OF THE MOST NOBLE VISION THAT ONE OF THEM BEHELD WHO WAS A MOST
HOLY FRIAR
44
CHAPTER XXVII
HOW ST. FRANCIS CONVERTED TWO SCHOLARS AT BOLOGNA THAT BECAME FRIARS, AND
THEN DELIVERED ONE OF THEM FROM A GREAT TEMPTATION . . . . 50
CHAPTER XXVIII
OF THE DIVINE ECSTASY THAT CAME TO FRIAR BERNARD WHEREBY HE REMAINED
FROM MORN TO NOON INSENSIBLE TO OUTWARD THINGS 5 1
vili CONTENTS
CHAPTER XXIX
PAGE
HOW THE DEVIL IN THE FORM OF THE CRUCIFIED APPEARED MANY TIMES TO FRIAR
RUFFINO AND TOLD HIM HE WAS LOSING THE GOOD HE WAS PRACTISING BECAUSE
HE WAS NOT OF THE ELECT. WHEREAT ST. FRANCIS, KNOWING THIS BY
REVELATION FROM GOD, MADE FRIAR RUFFINO WARE OF THE ERRORS WHERETO
HE HAD GIVEN CREDENCE 53
CHAPTER XXX
OF THE FAIR SERMON THAT ST. FRANCIS AND FRIAR RUFFINO PREACHED AT ASSISI . 55
CHAPTER XXXI
HOW ST. FRANCIS KNEW THE SECRETS OF THE CONSCIENCES OF HIS FRIARS IN ALL
THINGS 57
CHAPTER XXXII
HOW FRIAR MASSEO CRAVED FROM CHRIST THE VIRTUE OF HUMILITY .... 58
CHAPTER XXXIII
HOW ST. CLARE, BY COMMAND OF THE POPE, BLESSED THE BREAD THAT LAY ON THE
TABLE, WHEREUPON THE SIGN OF THE HOLY CROSS APPEARED ON EVERY LOAF 59
CHAPTER XXXIV
HOW ST. LOUIS, KING OF FRANCE, WENT IN PERSON, IN THE GUISE OF A PILGRIM, TO
PERUGIA TO VISIT THE SAINTLY FRIAR GILES . . . 60
CHAPTER XXXV
HOW ST. CLARE, BEING SICK, WAS MIRACULOUSLY BORNE ON CHRISTMAS EVE TO THE
CHURCH OF ST. FRANCIS, AND THERE HEARD THE OFFICE 6l
CHAPTER XXXVI
HOW ST. FRANCIS INTERPRETED A FAIR VISION THAT FRIAR LEO HAD SEEN ... 62
CHAPTER XXXVII
HOW JESUS CHRIST THE BLESSED, AT THE PRAYER OF ST. FRANCIS, CAUSED A RICH AND
NOBLE KNIGHT TO BE CONVERTED AND BECOME A FRIAR ; WHICH KNIGHT HAD
DONE GREAT HONOUR AND HAD MADE MANY GIFTS UNTO ST. FRANCIS . . 63
CHAPTER XXXVIII
HOW ST. FRANCIS KNEW IN SPIRIT THAT FRIAR ELIAS WAS DAMNED AND WAS TO DIE
OUTSIDE THE ORDER : WHEREFORE, AT THE PRAYER OF FRIAR ELIAS, HE
BESOUGHT CHRIST FOR HIM AND WAS HEARD 64
CHAPTER XXXIX
OF THE MARVELLOUS SERMON THAT ST. ANTHONY OF PADUA, A FRIAR MINOR, PREACHED
IN THE CONSISTORY 66
CONTENTS ix
CHAPTER XL
PAGE
OF THE MIRACLE THAT GOD WROUGHT, WHEN ST. ANTHONY, BEING AT RIMINI,
PREACHED TO THE FISHES IN THE SEA 67
CHAPTER XLI
HOW THE VENERABLE FRIAR SIMON DELIVERED A FRIAR FROM A GREAT TEMPTATION
WHO FOR THIS CAUSE HAD DESIRED TO LEAVE THE ORDER 69
CHAPTER XLII
OF THE FAIR MIRACLES GOD WROUGHT THROUGH HIS HOLY FRIARS, FRIAR BENTIVOGLIA,
FRIAR PETER OF MONTICELLO, AND FRIAR CONRAD OF OFFIDA ; AND HOW FRIAR
BENTIVOGLIA CARRIED A LEPER FIFTEEN MILES IN A VERY BRIEF TIME ; AND HOW
THE OTHER FRIAR SPAKE WITH ST. MICHAEL, AND HOW TO THE THIRD CAME THE
VIRGIN MARY AND LAID HER SON IN HIS ARMS 71
CHAPTER XLIII
HOW FRIAR CONRAD OF OFFIDA CONVERTED A YOUNG FRIAR WHO WAS A STUMBLING-
BLOCK TO THE OTHER FRIARS. AND HOW AFTER THE SAID YOUNG FRIAR DIED HE
APPEARED TO THE SAID FRIAR CONRAD AND ENTREATED HIM TO PRAY FOR HIM \
AND HOW HE DELIVERED HIM BY HIS PRAYERS FROM THE MOST GRIEVOUS PAINS
OF PURGATORY 73
CHAPTER XLIV
HOW THE MOTHER OF CHRIST AND ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST APPEARED TO FRIAR PETER
AND TOLD HIM WHICH OF THEM SUFFERED GREATEST PAIN AT THE PASSION OF
CHRIST 74
CHAPTER XLV
OF THE CONVERSION, LIFE, MIRACLES, AND DEATH OF THE HOLY FRIAR JOHN OF LA
PENNA 75
CHAPTER XLVI
HOW FRIAR PACIFICO, BEING AT PRAYER, BEHELD THE SOUL OF FRIAR UMILE, HIS
BROTHER, ASCENDING TO HEAVEN 79
CHAPTER XLVII
TOUCHING THAT HOLY FRIAR TO WHOM THE MOTHER OF CHRIST APPEARED WHEN HE
LAY SICK AND BROUGHT HIM THREE BOXES OF ELECTUARY 80
CHAPTER XLVI 1 1
HOW FRIAR JAMES OF LA MASSA SAW IN A VISION ALL THE FRIARS MINOR IN THE WORLD
IN THE SIMILITUDE OF A TREE, AND KNEW THE VIRTUES AND THE MERITS AND THE
SINS OF EACH ONE OF THEM 8l
b
x CONTENTS
CHAPTER XLIX page
HOW CHRIST APPEARED TO FRIAR JOHN OF LA VERNA 84
CHAPTER L
HOW FRIAR JOHN OF LA VERNA, WHILE SAYING MASS ON ALL SOULS' DAY, BEHELD
MANY SOULS SET FREE FROM PURGATORY 87
CHAPTER LI
OF THE HOLY FRIAR JAMES OF FALTERONE, AND HOW AFTER HIS DEATH HE APPEARED
TO FRIAR JOHN OF LA VERNA 88
CHAPTER LII
OF THE VISION OF FRIAR JOHN OF LA VERNA WHEREIN HE KNEW ALL THE ORDER OF
THE HOLY TRINITY 90
CHAPTER LIII
HOW FRIAR JOHN OF LA VERNA, WHILE SAYING MASS, FELL DOWN AS ONE DEAD. . 91
TOUCHING THE SACRED AND HOLY STIGMAS OF SAINT FRANCIS AND SOME
CONSIDERATIONS THEREON 93
THE LIFE OF FRIAR JUNIPER 128
THE LIFE OF THE BLESSED FRIAR GILES, THE COMPANION OF SAINT FRANCIS . . 141
THE CHAPTERS OF CERTAIN DOCTRINES AND NOTABLE SAYINGS OF FRIAR GILES . 148
APPENDIX
I. HOW ST. FRANCIS BEING MET BY A BISHOP IN FULL PONTIFICALS TURNED
ASIDE TO TREAD POTTER'S CLAY 173
II. HOW A VERY RELIGIOUS FRIAR AND OF GREAT SANCTITY WAS UNABLE,
THROUGH LACK OF FEAR, TO RESIST THE TEMPTATIONS OF THE DEVIL
AND BECAME AN APOSTATE 1 74
III. HOW ST. FRANCIS, EATING WITH ST. CLARE, REMAINED LIFTED UP A LONG
TIME AND HOW HE WAS REPROVED THEREFORE BY FRIAR ANGELO . I74
IV. HOW A SPANISH FRIAR WAS RAPT IN CONTEMPLATION 175
V. HOW ST. FRANCIS TAUGHT FRIAR STEPHEN THE NEED OF DISCRETION . I75
VI. HOW ST. FRANCIS BADE FRIAR ANGELO REPROVE HIM IF HE FAILED TO
OBEY THE LORD'S COMMANDS 1 76
VII. OF THE CONTRITION OF A DISOBEDIENT FRIAR I76
VIH. HOW FRIAR JUNIPER SET ABOUT BEGGING FOR FOOD AND LODGING . . 177
IX. FRIAR JUNIPER AND THE YOUTH WHO BECAME FRIAR JOACHIM . . . I78
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
st. francis {Frontispiece)
FACING
PAGE
CONVERSION OF FRIAR BERNARD OF QUINTAVALLE 2
ST. FRANCIS SETS FORTH TO FRIAR LEO WHERE PERFECT JOY IS TO BE FOUND . 14
FRIAR MASSEO l6
ST. FRANCIS MAKES FRIAR MASSEO TURN ROUND MANY TIMES TO FIND THE WAY HE
SHOULD GO l8
FRIAR MASSEO IS APPOINTED DOORKEEPER 20
THE REPAST OF ST. FRANCIS AND FRIAR MASSEO AT THE FOUNTAIN. ST. FRANCIS
PRAISES POVERTY 22
ST. FRANCIS AND THE FRIARS DISCOURSE OF GOD 24
ST. CLARE 26
ST. FRANCIS PREACHES TO THE BIRDS 28
THE CHAPTER AT ST. MARY OF THE ANGELS NEAR ASSISI 32
THE WOLF OF GUBBIO AFTER HIS CONVERSION 36
ST. FRANCIS TAMES THE WILD TURTLE DOVES 38
FRIAR ANGEL AND THE THREE BRIGANDS . 46
FRIAR BERNARD OF QUINTAVALLE 48
ST. FRANCIS PREACHING AT BOLOGNA 5$
ASSISI 5$
FRIAR BENTIVOGLIA TENDS A LEPER 72
MOUNT LA VERNA .96
ST. FRANCIS DESCENDING MOUNT LA VERNA WITH FRIAR LEO AFTER THE IMPRINTING
OF THE HOLY STIGMAS 110
ST. FRANCIS BLESSES THE CITY OF ASSISI Il6
ST. FRANCIS SICK IN THE BISHOP'S PALACE AT ASSISI Il8
ST. FRANCIS ON HIS DEATH-BED 120
FRIAR JUNIPER CUTS OFF THE FOOT OF A PIG TO GIVE IT TO A SICK MAN . . 128
FRIAR JUNIPER I34
FRIAR GILES WORKING IN THE VINEYARD I44
FRIAR GILES AND HIS COMPANION FAINT WITH HUNGER IN A DESERTED CHURCH . I46
A FRIAR MEDITATING IN SOLITUDE 152
A FRIAR I56
A YOUNG FRIAR 168
XI
b 2
In painting the illustrations, M. Burnand has aimed at reproducing the
Assisian landscape as it appears to-day — little changed in its essential features
since St. Francis and his Friars lived and wrought — one of the most poetic and
lovely of Italian provinces. He has sought, with the aid of living models, to
evoke a convincing representation of the Franciscan friar in concrete form, as he
appeared in the thirteenth century, stripped of the accretions of ages of popular
and sacerdotal tradition. For his studio M. Burnand has chosen Assisi, St.
Damian, the sweet Umbrian vales and hills ; he has placed his models in a
natural setting under the light and colour of the magical Umbrian sun, in
a land of which St. Francis was the poetical and mystical emanation, who, in
his person must have displayed the distinctive characters of the Umbrian
race as it still survives in the places hallowed by his presence.
Xll
INTRODUCTION
Then shalt thou feel thy spirit so possest
And ravisht with devouring great desire
Of His deare selfe, that shall thy feeble brest
Inflame with love, and set thee all on fire
With burning zeale, through every part entire,
That in no earthly thing thou shalt delight
But in His sweet and amiable sight.
Since the appearance of Paul Sabatier's Vie de Saint Francois d'Assise in 1894,
the starting-point of the neo-Franciscan movement, scholars have disputed with
much unfranciscan acrimony concerning the relative value of existing
documentary authorities : the main outlines, however, of the life of the founder
of the Franciscan order are clear enough. Giovanni Bernadone, better known
as Francesco, tenderest and sweetest of Christian saints, was born at Assisi in
1 182. The male child that the Lady Pica, wife of the wealthy mercer, Pietro
Bernadone, brought into the world during her husband's absence in France,
received the baptismal name of Giovanni ; and it was probably on his return
that the joyous father substituted the name of Francesco. The little lad was in
due course sent to the priest's school at the church of St. Giorgio, and there
received the usual education of a mediaeval school-boy. He was not a diligent
scholar. We need not accept too literally his own description of himself as
ignorant and unschooled,1 for he read, dictated, and spoke Latin (although with
difficulty), and, as befitted the son of a merchant, early acquired a knowledge
of French. The only work by St. Francis we possess, other than in Latin, is a
poetical rhapsody composed in the Umbrian dialect, and more nearly akin to
the formless inspirations of Walt Whitman than to any known metrical model.
If, indeed, the famous " Hymn to the Sun " be the work of St. Francis at all,
for an eminent Italian scholar, after subjecting that composition to an exhaustive
criticism, concludes that " at most it is but a very unfaithful echo of an
improvisation that burst from the lips of the seraphic father when he was
assured of the near approach of celestial felicity ; or it may be nothing more
than a refashioning of the 148th Psalm and the Song of the Three Holy
1 Epist. ad cap. gen. 5. Quia ignorans sum et ydiota.
xiii
xiv INTRODUCTION
Children, composed at the end of the thirteenth century, without a breath of
the poetic spirit with which the seraphic father was so exquisitely endowed." x
Francis was neither a good boy nor an exemplary youth. Fond and
foolish parents indulged him with an early command of money ; he was
endowed with a romantic and emotional temperament, and association with
gay, dissolute, and pleasure-loving companions led to a wasted early manhood.
The ancient city of Assisi at the beginning of the thirteenth century was
far different from the decayed, poverty-stricken Assisi of to-day. It was a rich
and busy trading centre, with a turbulent aristocracy. Its traditions of
communal freedom, never lost since Roman days, had been stirred by the
general rising of the towns of Northern Italy against their German imperial
oppressors, which culminated at Legnano (1176), when the mail-clad
hosts of Barbarossa had bitten the dust before the stout burgesses of the
Lombard League. The burghers of Assisi, after a bitter period of feudal
reaction, rose in 1202 against their nobles, razed the sinister stronghold of
Count Conrad of Swabia, and girdled their city with defensive walls. In the
ensuing conflict with the republic of Perugia, that had allied herself with the
expelled Assisian nobles, the young Francis was taken prisoner. He supported
his incarceration with admirable courage and gaiety, and at the peace of
November 1 203 was back again in Assisi. But soon the hand of the Lord was
upon him, and those crises of the soul which throughout the ages have
summoned the great saints of the Christian faith to action, wrought upon
Francis. Between 1204 and 1209, tossed with fever on a sick-bed at Assisi ;
again at Spoleto, whither he had ridden, richly armed, on the way to win his
spurs with the army of Walter of Brienne in Apulia ; on a pilgrimage to
Rome ; at prayer before the crucifix at St. Damian's, mysterious voices called
him, like St. Augustine of old, to the service of a Lord and of ideals far
removed from those with which the troubadours of Provence had fired the
minds of the youth of Italy. And he, the refined and delicate signor, who was
wont to turn aside and hold his nostrils with disgust at the sight of a leper, was
constrained to kiss their sores and serve in nauseous lazar-houses.
Between 1207 and 1209, interpreting literally the words uttered by the
figure of Christ painted on the crucifix at St. Damian's " Francis, go, repair
my house that thou seest is all in ruins," he applied himself with fervent
zeal to the restoration of that rustic chapel and of the forsaken little
Benedictine oratory of St. Mary of the Porziuncula (the little portion),'2
1 Ildebrando della Giovanna, S. Francesco a" Assisi Giullare e la " Laudes Creaturarum" Giornale
Storico d. Lett. Ital. xxv. 1895. The poem is, however, accepted as genuine by most recent critics.
2 It was built on a "small portion" of land given by the Assisians to St. Benedict in the sixth
century.
INTRODUCTION xv
or St. Mary of the Angels, below Assisi. To procure money for the repair
of St. Damian's, Francis had conveyed a load of cloth from his father's
shop and sold it at Foligno market. The wrath of Peter Bernadone may
be imagined. Francis, his first-born, on whom he had counted for the
future conduct and prosperity of an honourable and profitable house, had
become a prodigal indeed ; all his hopes were wrecked, and he cited his
mad son — for so he was esteemed in Assisi — before the magistrates. At
Francis's request the case was referred to the bishop's court, and there in
April 1207 father and son met. At his angry complaints Francis stripped
off his garments, flung them down at his father's feet in a passionate act
of repudiation, and wrapped in a peasant's tattered cloak, on which he had
rudely chalked a cross, went forth to his mission.
But the neglected and crumbling temples of God were but an outward
sign of the spiritual rot within, and soon it was revealed to Francis that his
calling was to restore the spirit of Christ and proclaim anew His message
of peace, goodwill, and salvation to men. One early February morning in
1209, while hearing Mass at the Porziuncula, the aged priest read from the
Gospel of St. Matthew — it was St. Matthias's Day — the words of Jesus to
the twelve as he sent them forth to preach. In a moment of inspiration
God's will was made known to Francis, and the seed of the Order of the
Barefoot Friars was sown in his bosom. He too would go forth, with neither
gold, nor silver, nor wallet, nor shoes, nor staff, and with but one coat, to call
men to righteousness. He began to preach, disciples joined him — Bernard
of Quintavalle, Peter Catani, Giles of Assisi. A forsaken travellers' shelter
near the leper hospital at Rivo Torto, so small and mean that Francis had to
chalk the name of each friar over his narrow sleeping-place, became the
first settlement of the Franciscan friars. A simple rule, based on the teachings
of their divine exemplar, was drawn up by Francis,1 and one summer's day in
1 210 the little band of disciples set forth from Rivo Torto to obtain its
confirmation at Rome. The Church had been much plagued with innovators
and heresy, and the pope hesitated to admit them ; but the wavering mind
of Innocent III., as legend tells, was fixed by a wondrous vision to receive this
strange deputation of ragged enthusiasts. As he lay in his bed he beheld the
great basilica of St. John Lateran tottering to its fall ; and while he stood,
paralysed with terror and unable to stir, lo, a poor little man, barefoot and clad
in peasant's garb, strode up and applied his shoulders to the falling church, and
1 The Rule was probably little more than a transcript of the charge of Jesus to the twelve ;
it has not come down to us.
xvi INTRODUCTION
ever growing to a mighty stature, he set the building erect again, and left
it more firmly founded than before. Innocent gently warned his suppliant that
he was making too great demands on feeble human nature, but gave a verbal
approval to the Rule, authorised the friars to preach, and dismissed them
with his blessing. They received the tonsure, and went their way rejoicing.
Calling themselves the minores, or poor little folk, as distinguished from
the majores, or upper classes, they began their wondrous mission.
In 1212, a peasant claimed to use the hovel at Rivo Torto to stable his ass :
it was humbly surrendered to him, and an opportune offer to Francis by the
Benedictines of the use of the Porziuncula enabled the friars to build rude cells
of wattle and daub round the little chapel and to settle there ; the friary of the
Little Portion became evermore the holy Sion of the Franciscans. The
venerable little sanctuary still exists, overarched by the vast dome of the present
magnificent sixteenth-century temple of St. Mary of the Angels, and few
are they who can look with dry eyes on the rude masonry of this, the mother-
house of the Franciscan religion.
Of the success of the movement, the rapid increase of the friars and of their
settlements, of the wanderings of Francis and his solitary wrestling with the
Spirit in Umbria, in the Marches, in the Vale of Rieti, at La Verna, space
forbids a detailed treatment. His power as a preacher was marvellous. As
soon as the news ran that Francis was coming, the whole life of the community
was at a standstill. Bells rang, the merchant left his desk, the trader his counter,
the workman his tools, women and children crying " ecco il santo ! " went forth
to meet him ; men strove to touch the hem of his tunic, and women bent
down to kiss his footprints on the ground. Such was the consuming passion
of his eloquence that he spoke not so much with his tongue as with the whole
body, and at times, in the vehement fervour of his pleading for souls, he seemed
to dance like David of old. He had the supreme wisdom of the simple and the
pure in heart ; he possessed that piercing insight into the very core of things
that comes from absolute sincerity and undeviating truthfulness. We have a
precious contemporary witness to the efficacy of his preaching. Thomas of
Spalato relates that when he was a student at Bologna, in the year 1222, he saw
St. Francis preaching in the piazza in front of the Palazzo del Podestà on the
text, " Angels, men, and devils." The whole city had assembled to hear him,
and " he treated his theme so well and so wisely that many learned men who
were present stood filled with admiration when they heard such words from the
lips of an untutored friar. The whole matter of his discourse was directed to
the quenching of hatred and the establishment of peace. His dress was mean,.
INTRODUCTION xvn
his person insignificant (contemptibi/is), his face without beauty. But with so
much power did God inspire his words that many noble families, sundered by
ancient blood feuds, were reconciled for ever." Often whole populations were
moved to declare themselves his disciples and to follow him, so that he was
forced to restrain them and to meditate on some rule of life that would allow
his converts to attain the desire of their hearts without wholly renouncing their
family and secular duties. A certain rich merchant of Poggibonsi named
Lucchesio, and a former acquaintance of Francis, being converted, had
gathered around him a small group of like-minded penitents who sought to live,
so far as they might, according to the Franciscan ideal, being in the world but
not of the world ; similar communities were soon formed in other Italian cities,
and lived under a Rule indited or inspired by Francis. Thus was founded the
Ocder subsequently known as the Third Order, but which, at its inception, was
called the Order of Continents or Penitents. The earliest known foundation
was at Faenza in 1221, and the first extant Rule — a precious find by Sabatier
— is dated August 18, 1228. The Penitent vowed to make restitution of all
ill-gotten gain, to become reconciled with his enemies, to live in peace and
concord with all men, to pass his life in prayer and works of chanty, to keep
certain fasts and vigils, to pay tithes regularly to the Church, to take no oath
save under exceptional conditions, never to wear arms, to use no foul language,
and to practise piety to the dead.
The Franciscan movement was not without its Mary who chose the good
part that was not taken away from her. Among the hearers of Francis during
the Lent of 121 2 was the young and beautiful Lady Clare, daughter of the
patrician houses of the Scifi and the Fiumi. She, a girl of eighteen summers,
already quickened by his preaching, left her parents' mansion on the night of
Palm Sunday, March 18, and hurried to the Porziuncula, where Francis
awaited her. Falling prostrate before the altar of the Virgin in silent prayer,
she took the vows of poverty, of chastity, and obedience. Her rich and noble
robes she exchanged for coarse sackcloth, her jewelled girdle for a cincture of rope,
her lovely golden tresses, shorn by Francis' own hand, fell at her feet no longer
adorned with silken hose, but thrust naked into rough wooden sandals. Her
sweet face veiled in black, she was led in the early dawn to the Benedictine
nunnery at Bastia, whence she was driven by the importunities of her kinsfolk
to a more secluded cloister ; there she was joined by Agnes, her younger sister.
Francis, having begged for her the use of the chapel of St. Damian, built
with his own hands a few rough cells and established her there. He composed a
summary Rule of life, and promised that he and his friars would have diligent care
xvin INTRODUCTION
and special solitude for her. She, too, soon found her spiritual disciples, and in
1215, Innocent III. with his own hand wrote the first notala which conferred the
privilege of Holy Poverty on the poor ladies of St. Damian. In 12 19, their
Rule was drawn up by Cardinal Hugolin, approved by Francis, and confirmed
by Honorius III. Thus the " unworthy handmaid of Christ and little plant of
the most blessed Father Francis " became founder of the famous sisterhood of
the Poor Clares, which for forty years she ruled and uplifted towards the loftiest
ideals of their spiritual father. The little convent of St. Damian, with its rude,
worm-eaten benches, the old bell with which St. Clare called the sisters to
prayer, the pectoral cross given her by St. Bonaventura, the breviary written for
her by Friar Leo, the tabernacle of alabaster for the Blessed Sacrament, with
which she miraculously drove away the Saracen host in 1234, her tiny
cell — remain to-day, thanks to the liberality of the Marquis of Ripon,
much as they were in the days when St. Francis broke bread with her
or sought guidance and consolation from her prayers. There, too, is the little
patch of garden where she tended her favourite flowers — the lily, symbol of
purity ; the violet, of humility ; the rose, of love for God and man. In the old
chapel of St. Giorgio, still preserved within the church of St. Clare, we may gaze
upon her body with the coarse brown habit in which she was buried, clasping
the book of the Rule in her hand even as she was found in 1850, with the wild
thyme her sisters had cast around her, six centuries before, still retaining some of
its fragrance. There, too, the old crucifix of St. Damian's is preserved, which
uttered the command to Francis to go and repair the ruined house of the Lord.
Between 121 2 and 1215, Francis sought martyrdom in two attempts to
reach the infidels (in Palestine and in Morocco), which were frustrated by
sickness and shipwreck, and we are permitted to see the saint and his
companion returning as stowaways from Slavonia. At the second Chapter-
General of the Order, held at the Porziuncula on May 26, 1219, the first great
foreign mission of the friars was organised. John of La Penna with sixty
friars went to Germany ; Friar Pacifico, once a famous troubadour, crowned
king of poets {rex versuum) by the emperor, was sent to France ; Friar Giles to
Tunis ; others to Spain, Hungary and Morocco.1 All were furnished with
copies of a brief from Honorius III. (June 11, 1219), commending the friars
to the prelates of the catholic world. Soon news came that the five sent to
Morocco had suffered martyrdom, and St. Francis again set forth for the lands
of the infidel. After his attempt to convert the soldan in Egypt, he set sail
about March 1220 for Palestine, soon, however, to be recalled to Assisi by news
xThe first mission to England, composed of nine friars, was sent forth in June 1224.
INTRODUCTION xix
of serious dissension and attempts at innovation among his friars at home.
In September 1220, he obtained from the pope at Orvieto the appointment of
his friend Cardinal Hugolin as protector and corrector of the Order. Having
resigned his office of minister-general in favour of Peter Catani, owing to
severe ophthalmia contracted in Egypt, he prepared, after recovery from an
attack of malaria, to deal, early in 1221, with the crisis in the affairs of the
Order.
On May 30, the great Chapter-General, called of the Mats, was held — Peter
Catani having died in the meantime, and the powerful and worldly Friar Elias
ruling in his stead. It is with the children of the spirit as with the offspring
of the body — they soon grow to an independent life of their own, and pass
beyond their parents' control. So it was with the mighty creation of Francis
of Assisi. The new Order had grown far beyond the statesmanship of its
guileless founder. From 3,000 to 5,000 friars met at the Chapter ; the warning
note sounded by Innocent III. had not been in vain, and the brief gospel Rule
of 1 210 no longer sufficed to meet the needs of a vast organisation covering
almost the whole civilised world, and including in its ranks men of ideals far below
the lofty heights of renunciation and self-sacrifice reached by the earliest friars.
Already, in September 1220, it had been found necessary at Rome to forbid
any one to be received into the Order without a noviciate of one year. The
easy going, lazy friar, called " friar fly " by Francis, who " plied his jaws
more than his hands ; " the vagrant impostor, trading on the reputation of the
Order, were become an urgent problem to the provincial ministers.
Moreover, the mediaeval revival was an artistic and an intellectual as well as a
religious one. The passion for beauty and knowledge that characterised the
early thirteenth century had touched the minds of Franciscan as well as of
Dominican friars, and the fratres scientiati demanded a relaxation of the more
stringent clauses against the possession of books and against attendance at the
universities, no less than a revision of the regulations as to food and dress. The
discussions at the Chapter resulted in the elaboration of the so-called Regula
prima, or Rule of 1221. How far this may have modified the primitive Rule of
1210 is not known, for whatever fragments may remain of that Rule are
involved in a mass of admonitions and precepts composed by Francis at
different periods.1 The Rule of 1221, however, never received papal sanction,
and the definite constitution of the Order, known as the Regula ballata, was
the outcome of long and complicated negotiations between Francis, Cardinal
Hugolin, Friar Elias and other influential Franciscans ; it was finally confirmed
1 It fills twenty-six pages in Boehmer's Analecten, c Z
xx INTRODUCTION
by Honorius at Rome on November 29, 1223, and published at the Chapter
of June 1224.1 Space forbids a detailed comparison of the two Rules.
Suffice it to say that the Regula bulletta was a compromise between
the zealots of gospel poverty, some of them m ore Franciscan than
Francis himself, and the innovators who, like Friar Elias, would have
suppressed the primitive Rule altogether, and substituted for it another, based
on that of the Dominicans. The bitterest trial to Francis was the merciless
elimination of what he regarded as the very pith and marrow of his religion —
the gospel rule of the opening verses of the ninth chapter of St. Luke's Gospel.
And this, too, from Elias — Elias one of the earliest of his disciples, whom he
had chosen to himself as a mother. It was like rending his breast. Already blind
and weakened by disease, the heart-broken Francis retired from the active conduct
of the Order ; he spent his days with his faithful few in solitary prayer,
ever striving, by example, by admonition, and by letters, to strengthen
his followers in the worship of poverty and in loyalty to his simple ideals.
From the rise of the new spirit within the Order, the story of Francis is that
of all the great saviours of mankind. The coarse thumb of the world had
smudged the purity of his ideal. Powerless to arrest the tide of advancing
worldliness his via crucis began. Too ill, or too heart-broken, to attend the
Chapter-General of 1224, he retired to the new hermitage of La Verna, and
there, at the end of his forty days' Michaelmas fast his spiritual anguish was
sealed with the material wounds of Christ's passion. In the summer of 1225
he withdrew to a solitary hut of reeds, prepared for him near St. Damian's
by Clare, the faithful daughter of his soul, where the poor blind saint,
ravaged by disease and tormented by vermin, is said to have composed the
" Hymn to the Sun." In September he had left St. Damian's, and at the
urgent entreaty of Cardinal Hugolin came for treatment by an eminent oculist
to Rieti. In accordance with the savage surgery of the time, a red-hot iron
was slowly drawn across his face from ear to eyebrow, and his already
debilitated body was bled again and again ; plasters and eye-salve were liberally
applied — nihil proficeret, says Thomas of Celano.
In March 1 226, he was under a famous physician at Siena. Admonished by
a severe haemorrhage, he dictated his spiritual Testament to Benedict of Prato —
a last touching appeal for the pure, strict, and single-minded observance
of his Rule. After a short rest at Cortona, where dropsy set in, Friar Elias had
the death-stricken saint carried to Assisi, and at Bagnora the sorrowful
procession was met by an armed force sent by the authorities at Assisi, who
1 This occupies six pages only in Boehmer.
I NT ROD UC TI ON xxi
were fearful lest the men of the rival city of Perugia might snatch the body
and thus deprive them of its lucrative possession. Francis was carried to the
bishop's palace, where he lay guarded outside by sentinels day and night.
Having entreated his physician, Bongiovanni of Arezzo, to number his days, he
was advised that his release was near at hand. Joyfully he added the last lines
in praise of sister Death to the " Hymn to the Sun," and desired that the fast-
decaying tenement of his soul might be borne to his beloved Porziuncula.
Halfway thither he bade the bearers lay the litter down and turn his blind
eyes towards Assisi. Then, painfully rising a little, he solemnly blessed the
city of his birth, fell back exhausted, and was carried on to the Porziuncula,
where he was visited and consoled by his Roman friend, the Lady Jacqueline of
Settesoli, and tended by his faithful companion and secretary, Friar Leo. Having
received the Sacrament he made a last appeal to the friars to cleave to Holy
Poverty, gave them his blessing, and began to sing the 142nd Psalm : Voce mea
ad dominum clamavi1 ("I cry with my voice to the Lord"); and so, writes
Thomas of Celano, mortem suscepìt cantando (" he welcomed death with
a song").2 It was the fourth of October, 1226.
As the great burial procession slowly wound its way up the hill to Assisi,
amid the clangour of trumpets, the tolling of bells, and the chanting of litanies,
it was halted before the convent of St. Damian. The coffin was carried into the
church, the lid removed, and there, through the little grated window whence they
were wont to receive the Lord's body, the Lady Clare and her sisters took a
last look at the body of their spiritual father; and as the bearers shouldered
the bier again, they cried in voices choked with sobs, " Father, father, what
shall we do ? " The body was temporarily placed in the church of St. Giorgio,
and on May 25, 1230, transferred to the magnificent basilica that Friar Elias,
with the aid of papal indulgences, had raised on the hill of Assisi. Had
Francis been alive he would have sought to tear down the proud edifice stone
from stone. Elias, fearing robbery, so effectually concealed the body in the
rock on which the church was built, that it was not discovered again until the
year 1818. On July 16, 1228, Hugolin, now Pope Gregory IX., set the
official seal on the canonisation which the universal voice of Europe had long
since conferred on Francis of Assisi.
The ravelled fabric of the Order was never knit together, and a long and bitter
contest ensued between the Spirituali, or strict Observants, and the more lax friars,
or Conventuali. On September 28, 1230, Gregory IX, declared the Testament
of St. Francis not to be binding; in May 1 3 1 8, four Spirituali were burnt
1 The 141st in the Vulgate. 2 October 4, 1226.
xxii INTRODUCTION
at the stake at Marseilles ; on November 12, 1323, John XXII, denounced as a
heresy the doctrine that Christ and His apostles possessed nothing personally or
collectively ; and finally, the Order was rent asunder by Leo X. in 15 17,
each section being authorised to choose its own superior : that of the Spirituali
to be called Minister, that of the Conventuali, Master-General. I well
remember, some years since, the scornful gesture with which a cultured
French friar, who conducted me over the great church at Assisi, and who had
just won a suit in the courts against the Italian government, turned towards the
friary of the Observants below, and exclaimed : " What's the use in these days
of sitting down there, comme un hibou (like an owl) ? "
Thomas of Celano, who was received into the Order by St. Francis himself,
has left a vivid word-picture of his spiritual father. He was of medium stature,
inclining to shortness ; his head was round and rather small, and he had a
rather long and prominent face, with a smooth but not high forehead. His
eyes were dark, clear, and frank (simplices) ; his hair was black, eyebrows
straight, nose well formed and thin, ears erect but small, temples smooth. He
had thin lips, teeth regular and white, a rather sparse black beard, a slender
neck, straight shoulders, short arms, and delicate hands with long fingers. His
legs were thin, feet small ; his skin was fine and tender, and he had little flesh
on his bones. He used to wear coarse clothing, was of a kindly aspect, with a
joyful countenance, and was fearless without arrogance. His voice was eager,
sweet, clear, and sonorous, and he was a man of supreme eloquence. But the
gentle Francis, if we may believe the same biographer, could be sometimes
stirred to indignation ; for on a certain friar desiring too gladly to visit a
convent of Poor Clares, the saint upbraided him most severely in words unfit for
publication (increpavit eum sanctus durissime, verba non modo referenda inculcans).1
It would be a grave misconception to assume that the Franciscan friar
was essentially a beggar. Poverty, not mendicancy, was the ideal of
St. Francis, who repeatedly urged the friars to earn their living by honest
work and to beg only exceptionally. "I worked with my hands," he states
in the Testament, " and desire to work. I steadfastly will and desire that all the
friars work at some honourable handicraft ; and as for those that know none,
let them learn — not for the sake of the price of their labour, but for example
and to eschew idleness. And when we can obtain nothing for our labour,
then we may have recourse to the table of the Lord, begging alms
from door to door."2 In the Regula prima each friar is exhorted to work
at the craft he has learned (save such as might cause scandal or imperil
1 Legenda Secunda, clvi. 2 Testamentum, 5.
INTRODUCTION xxiii
salvation), for he that will not work neither shall he eat. The friar may also
possess tools needful for his craft. In case of necessity he may beg, as
other poor folk do.1 A like injunction is included in the Regula buttata?
St. Francis was the very antithesis of a sour Puritan. He was the most
joyous of saints, would have no sad, long faces about him, and always
rebuked any friar that was gloomy or melancholy. His friars were to be
the joculatores Dei ("the minstrels of God"), scattered about the world
to sing the gospel truths. " At times," says Thomas of Celano, " I have
seen him with my own eyes, draw a stick across his arm, in the guise of one
playing a viol, and sing in French praises of the Lord." Indeed, the mediaeval
evangelist was the analogue of the modern Salvationist. Salimbene tells of a
famous revivalist, a simple and unlettered man, Friar Benedict of the Trumpet,
whom he heard preaching in the streets of Parma during the famous revival of
1233, known as the Great Halleluiah. Standing on the unfinished wall of the
bishop's palace, surrounded by a crowd of boys, Friar Benedict would blow a
small brass or gilt trumpet to call folk together, et terribiliter reboabat tuba sua
("and terribly was he wont to bray with his trumpet").
Of Friar Elias a little may be said. In 1227, after an unseemly scuffle at
the Chapter-General, he was replaced as minister-general by Giovanni Parenti,
re-elected in 1232, and finally deposed on May 15, 1239, as the result of a
widespread opposition to his policy. In 1238 he had been sent by Gregory IX.
on an embassy of peace to the Emperor Frederick II., and, after his fall in 1239
soon threw in his lot with the excommunicated emperor. He joined the court
at Pisa, began a stirring life of war and diplomacy, and retired on the emperor's
death in 1250 to Cortona, where he employed his energy in building a fine
church and friary. On April 22, 1253, his unquiet spirit found rest in a lonely
cell in the hermitage outside Cortona. According to the Fioretti, he was assoiled
of his sins at the point of death ; according to Salimbene, his body was flung on
a dunghill.
The reader of the Little Flowers will not fail to perceive the anti-Elian and
pro-Spirituali bias of its compilers ; and this impression will probably do less
than justice to Elias's memory. Friar Elias, by his powerful statesmanship,
aimed at welding the somewhat loosely organised friars into a compact and
mighty community that should cover the known world with its ramifications,
and become the greatest of the regular orders of the church. The easy-going,
tolerant and scandal-loving Salimbene, whom Elias had received into the Order,
1 Regula prima, 7. 2 Regula lullata, 5.
xxiv INTRODUCTION
has drawn up a heavy indictment of sins in thirteen counts against his sponsor.1
He tells, too, how he saw him at Parma, when on his way to the emperor's
court in 1238, with his own eyes, sitting in the guest-chamber on a couch of
down, with a roaring fire in front of him and an Armenian cap on his head;
and how when the podestà, Dominus Ghirardus, called Dentibus because of his big
teeth, paid Elias a visit of courtesy, with an honourable escort of knights, the
haughty superior neither returned the salutation of the podestà nor stirred from
his seat. A passing remark of the gossiping diarist helps us, however, to
comprehend some part of the opposition to the government of the Order by the
autocratic and masterful Elias. "The aforesaid Elias held the provincial
ministers so under his rod that they trembled before him as a reed buffeted by
by the waves, or as a lark trembles when the pursuing hawk is swooping
down upon her." . . . Sub dominio suo durissimum erat vivere (" We had a very
hard time under his rule").
The Little Flowers {Fioretti) is a free and amplified Italian translation of a
Latin original 2 compiled some time after 1322. It is based on the ingenuous
records, written and oral, of the saint's intimate, faithful, and steadfast followers.
St. Clare lived until 1253 ; Friar Giles until 1261 ; and if we may trust the
authority cited by Wadding, Friar Leo survived the fatal order of the Paris
Chapter by more than five years. Assuredly the aged and beloved disciple,
brother and companion in tribulation, as he meditated in his lonely cell, would
commit to paper the cherished memories of his master with even more diligence
than he had done in the past ; and as he sat at their humble repasts he would talk
with the new generation of friars of the fair days of old, and repeat to them the
precious sayings and doings, embroidered doubtless by his pious fancy, of their
spiritual father. He would recall, too, the betrayal of Elias, and dwell with
edification on his apostacy and fall. The Lady Jacqueline, his noble devotee
of Rome, was still living at Assisi, amid scenes eloquent of her dear
master, as late as October 1273, according to documentary evidence
discovered at Assisi by Sabatier. Living memory of St. Francis thus reached
to the later decades of the thirteenth century. Many of the stories of the
Fioretti are doubtless but memories of memories ; ensamples, fused and trans-
figured in their fervent imaginations, which the second and third generations
of Spirituali would tell as they went by the way or gathered together in
their refectories. The dramatic force of the narration, the transition from past
1 Liber de Pnelato. ! Actus B. Franche! et sociorum ejus.
INTRODUCTION xxv
to present tense (which I have retained in translation),1 suggest that we have
here the realistic form in which the friars recited some of these stories in their
sermons to the people that filled the market-places and the great Franciscan
churches of Italy. Dichtung and Wahrheit are inextricably interwoven. The
once savage brigand Fra Lupo of La Verna, or, perhaps, a cruel feudal
oppressor wreaking havoc and desolation among a peaceful community, may
easily have been developed into the fierce wolf of Gubbio, and the judicious
reader who peruses the Fioretti will gain a truer insight into the poverello
of Assisi than he will from the studied eloquence and insistent preoccupation
with the miraculous of his official panegyrist, St. Bonaventura. There is small
need to bespeak the reader's benevolence. It is a far cry now to the early
nineteenth century, when the great Hallam could contemptuously dismiss
the most potent spiritual force of the Middle Ages, a saint in whom the Jesus of
the gospels found His purest incarnation, " as a harmless enthusiast, pious and
sincere but hardly of sane mind, who was much rather accessory to the
intellectual than to the moral degradation of mankind."
I have appended additional chapters from a Spanish version of the Fioretti
(Floreto de Santo Francisco y de sus Companeros. Sevilla 1492) and from other
sources which have not hitherto been translated into English. These I
owe to the Rev. Father José Maria de Elizondo who has transcribed them
in his notes to the Spanish version of Jorgensen's life of St. Francis.2
Monsieur Eugene Burnand in the beautiful paintings which illustrate
this edition of the Little Flowers has gone for his rendering of St. F rancis, not to the
conventional types of traditional iconography, but to the descriptio n of the Saint
given by the contemporary, Thomas of Celano.
T. OKEY.
1 This translation of the Fioretti di San Francesco has been made on the advice ot
M. Sabatier, from the well-known text of Antonio Cesari. In a very few passages however I have
not hesitated to follow more recent texts by Passerini, where they have filled a gap in the Cesari
text or have seemed to offer a better reading.
2 San Francisco de Asis. Biografìa. Version Castellana de Ramon Maria Tenreiro revisaday anotado
Dor Fr. José Maria de Elizondo, Menor Capuchino. Voli. Madrid. Edicionesde la Lectura. 1913.
d
THE LITTLE FLOWERS OF
SAINT FRANCIS
CHAPTER I
In the Name of Our Lord Jesus Christ the Crucified, and of His Mother the
Virgin Mary. In this Book are contained certain Little Flowers, Miracles,
and Devout Ensamples of Chris fs Poor Little One, St. Francis, and of some
of his Holy Companions ; to the praise of Jesus Christ. Amen
It is first to be considered that the glorious St. Francis in all the acts of his
life was conformable to Christ the Blessed. And that even as Christ, at the
beginning of His mission, chose twelve Apostles who were to despise all
worldly things and follow Him in poverty and in the other virtues, so St.
Francis in the beginning chose for the foundation of his Order twelve com-
panions who were possessed of naught save direst poverty. And even as one
of the twelve Apostles of Christ, being reproved by God, went and hanged
himself by the neck, so one of the twelve companions of St. Francis, whose
name was Friar John of the Chapel, became a runagate and at last hanged
himself by the neck. Now these things are a great warning to the elect, and
matter for humility and fear when they consider that none is certain of
persevering to the end in God's grace. And even as those holy Apostles
were, above all, wondrous in their holiness and humility and filled with the
Holy Ghost, so these most holy companions of St. Francis were men of such
saintliness that, since the days of the Apostles, the world hath never beheld
men so wondrously holy. For one among them was rapt, like St. Paul, up to
the third heaven, and he was Friar Giles ; another, to wit, Friar Philip, was
touched on the lips by an angel with a coal of fire, even as the prophet Isaiah
was ; another, to wit, Friar Silvester, spake with God as one friend speaketh
with another, after the manner of Moses ; another by the purity of his mind
2 CONVERSION OF
soared as far as the light of the Divine Wisdom, even as did the Eagle, that
is to say, John the Evangelist, and he was Friar Bernard, humblest of men,
who was wont to expound the Holy Scriptures most profoundly ; yet another
was sanctified by God and canonised in heaven while yet he lived in the world,
and he was Friar Rufus, a nobleman of Assisi. And thus were all distinguished
by singular marks of holiness, as will be made clear hereafter.
CHAPTER II
Of Friar Bernard of Quintavalle, the First Companion of St. Francis
The first companion of St. Francis was Friar Bernard of Assisi, that was
converted after this manner : St. Francis, while yet in the secular habit,
albeit he had renounced the world, was wont to go about in meanest guise
and so mortified by penance that by many he was held to be a fool, and was
mocked and hunted as a madman and pelted with stones and filthy mire
both by his kinsfolk and by strangers ; but he, even as one deaf and dumb,
went his way enduring every insult and injury patiently. Now Bernard of
Assisi, who was one of the noblest and richest and wisest of that city, began
to consider wisely concerning St. Francis and his exceeding contempt of this
world and his long-suffering under injury ; and that, albeit for two years he
had been thus hated and despised by all men, yet did he ever seem more
steadfast. And he began to ponder these things and to say within himself,
" Of a surety this friar hath great grace from God." And he invited St.
Francis to sup and lodge with him ; and St. Francis accepted and supped and
tarried the night. And then Bernard determined in his heart to contemplate
his holiness : wherefore he had a bed made ready for him in his own chamber
wherein by night a lamp ever burned. And St. Francis, to conceal his holi-
ness, flung himself on his bed immediately he entered the chamber and feigned
to sleep : and Bernard likewise, after a little while, lay down in his bed and
began to snore loudly, as one wrapped in deepest slumber. Wherefore St.
Francis, verily believing that Bernard slept, arose in the stillness of the night
from his bed and knelt down to pray ; lifting his eyes and hands to heaven
he cried with great devotion and fervour, " My God, my God ! " And so
saying and weeping bitter tears, he prayed until morning, ever repeating, " My
FRIAR BERNARD 3
God, my God ! " and naught else. And St. Francis said this, while con-
templating and marvelling at the excellency of the Divine Majesty that had
deigned to stoop down to this perishing world, and, through His poor little
Francis, had resolved to bring healing salvation to his own soul and to
others. And therefore, illumined by the Holy Ghost, or by the spirit of
prophecy, he foresaw the great things that God was to work through him
and his Order. And considering his own insufficiency and little worth he
called on God Almighty and prayed that of His compassion He would
supply, aid, and complete that which he of his own frailty could not achieve.
Now Bernard, when he beheld these most devout acts of St. Francis by the
light of the lamp, and had reverently considered the words he uttered, was
moved and inspired by the Holy Ghost to change his manner of life ; where-
fore when morning was come he called St. Francis to him and spake thus,
" Brother Francis, I have fully determined in my heart to forsake the world
and obey thee in all things thou commandest me." When St. Francis heard
this he rejoiced in spirit and said, "Bernard, this that you1 tell is a work so
great and so difficult that it behoves us to seek counsel of our Lord Jesus Christ
and pray that it may please Him to reveal His will concerning this thing,
and teach us how we may put it into execution. Therefore we will go
together to the bishop's house, where a good priest dwells, and mass shall
be said, and then we will remain in prayer until tierce, beseeching God that
He will point out to us in three openings of the mass book the way it
pleaseth Him we should choose." Bernard answered that this pleased him
much. Whereupon they set forth and went to the bishop's house, and after
they had heard mass and had remained in prayer until tierce, the priest, at
the entreaty of St. Francis, took the book, and having made the sign of
holy cross, opened it thrice in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. And at
the first opening he happened on those words that Christ in the gospel
spake to the young man who asked concerning the perfect way, " If thou
wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast and give to the poor and follow
Me." In the second opening occurred those words that Christ spake to the
Apostles when He sent them to preach, "Take nothing for your journey,
neither staves nor scrip, neither shoes nor money," desiring by this to teach
them that all trust for their livelihood should be placed in God, and all their
1 Voi (you) instead of the more familiar tu (thou). The more reverent, voi, is used by Dante
only in addressing spirits of great dignity, e.g. Brunetto Latino, Cacciaguida, and a very few
others.
4 CONFERS/ON OF
mind intent on preaching the holy gospel. In the third opening were found
those words which Christ spake, " If any man will come after Me, let him
take up his cross and follow Me." Then said St. Francis to Bernard, " Behold
the counsel that Christ giveth us. Go, therefore, do faithfully what thou hast
heard, and blessed be the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath deigned
to reveal to us the life evangelical." Hearing this, Bernard departed and sold
all he had (for he was very rich) , and with great joy distributed all to widows
and orphans, to prisoners and hospitals and pilgrims ; and in all these things
St. Francis helped him faithfully and carefully. And one whose name was
Silvester, when he saw that St. Francis gave and caused to be given so much
money to the poor, was constrained by avarice, and said to St. Francis,
"Thou didst not pay me fully for the stones thou boughtest of me to
repair the church, and therefore, now thou hast money, pay me." Then
St. Francis, marvelling at his avarice, and as a true follower of the gospel
desiring not to contend with him, thrust his hands in Bernard's bosom,
and with hands full of money placed them in Silvester's bosom, saying,
that if he would have more, more should be given him. And Silvester,
satisfied with this, departed and returned home, but in the evening, pondering
on what he had done that day and on the fervour of Bernard and the holiness
of St. Francis, he reproved himself for his avarice. And that night following
and two other nights he had from God this vision : he beheld a cross of gold
issue from the mouth of St. Francis, the top whereof touched heaven, and
the arms stretched from the east as far as the west. Because of this vision
he gave up all he had for love of God, and became a friar minor, and such
holiness and grace had he in the Order that he spake with God even as one
friend with another, according as St. Francis proved and as will be related
hereafter. Bernard likewise was so filled with God's grace that in contem-
plation he was often taken up to God. And St. Francis was wont to say of
him that he was worthy of all reverence and had founded this Order, for he
was the first who had forsaken the world, holding back nothing, but giving
all to Christ's poor, and the first who began his evangelic poverty by offering
himself naked to the arms of the Crucified, to whom be all praise and glory
world without end. Amen.
FRIAR BERNARD
CHAPTER III
How St. Francis, by reason of an Evil Thought he cherished against Friar
Bernard, commanded the said Friar that he should tread thrice on his Neck
and Mouth
St. Francis, the most devout servant of the Crucified, had grown almost
blind by the rigour of his penance and incessant weeping, so that he saw
but ill ; and once on a time he departed from the place where he was, and
went to a place where Friar Bernard was, in order to speak with him of divine
things. Being arrived there, he found that Friar Bernard was at prayer in
the wood, wholly lifted up and united with God. Then St. Francis went
forth into the wood and called him. " Come," said he, " and speak with this
blind man." And Friar Bernard answered him not a word ; for being a man
great in contemplation, his soul was lifted up and raised to God. And
forasmuch as Friar Bernard was possessed of singular grace in discoursing of
God, even as St. Francis had proved many times, great was his desire to speak
with him. After some while he called him a second and a third time in that
same wise, and no time did Friar Bernard hear him : therefore he neither
answered nor came to him ; whereat St. Francis departed somewhat dis-
consolate, marvelling within himself and grieving that Friar Bernard, being
called thrice, had not come to him. St. Francis turned away with these
thoughts in his mind, and when he was gone some little distance he said to
his companion, "Tarry for me here." And he went aside hard by into a
solitary place and prostrated himself in prayer, beseeching God to reveal
to him why Friar Bernard answered him not ; and remaining thus in prayer
there came to him a voice from God, saying, " O poor little one, wherefore
art thou troubled ? Ought a man to forsake God for His creature ? When
thou didst call, Friar Bernard was united with Me, and therefore could neither
come to thee nor answer thee. Marvel thou not if he could not respond, for
he was so lifted out of himself that of thy words he heard none." St. Francis,
having heard these words from God, straightway returned with great haste
towards Friar Bernard, in order to accuse himself humbly before him of the
evil thoughts he had nursed concerning him. And Friar Bernard, beholding
him come towards him, drew nigh and cast himself at his feet ; and then
6 FRIAR BERNARD
St. Francis made him rise up, and with great humility related to him the
thoughts he had had and the tribulation he had suffered concerning him, and
how that God had answered his prayer. And thus he concluded, " I command
thee by holy obedience that thou do whatsoever I command thee." Friar
Bernard, fearing lest St. Francis might lay on him some excess of penance,
as he was wont to do, desired with all sincerity to escape such obedience, and
answered him thus, " I am ready to do your obedience if you will promise to
do what I shall command you." And St. Francis gave him the promise. Then
said Friar Bernard, " Say on, father ; what would you that I do ? " And
St. Francis answered him, saying, " I command thee by holy obedience that,
in order to punish the arrogance and rashness of my heart, thou shalt now,
even as I lay me supine on the ground, set one foot on my neck and the other
on my mouth, and so pass thrice from one side to the other, reviling and
crying shame on me ; and especially shalt thou say, ' Lie there, churl, son
of Peter Bernadone ! whence cometh such pride to thee, thou that art so vile
a creature ? ' " Friar Bernard hearing this, albeit it was very hard to do, per-
formed, in holy obedience, what St. Francis had commanded him, with all the
gentleness he could. This done, St. Francis said, " Now command thou me
what thou wouldest I should do, for I have promised thee holy obedience."
Then said Friar Bernard, " I command thee by holy obedience, that every
time we are together thou rebuke and correct me harshly for all my faults."
Whereupon St. Francis marvelled greatly, for Friar Bernard was of such
exceeding sanctity that he held him in great reverence and in no wise worthy
of reproof. And thenceforth St. Francis was careful to avoid being much
with him, because of the said obedience, lest it befell that he utter one word
of reproof against him, whom he knew to be of such great holiness. But
when he desired to see him, or indeed to hear him speak of God, he made
haste to leave him and depart from him, and a goodly thing it was to behold,
what great charity and reverence and humility St. Francis, the father, used
towards Bernard, his first-born son, when he spake with him. To the praise
and glory of Christ Jesus and of the poor little Francis. Amen.
FRIAR ELIAS
CHAPTER IV
How an Angel of God put a question to Friar Elias, Warden of the Friary1
in the Vale of Spoleto, and because Friar Elias answered him haughtily,
departed and went along the way to St. James's, where he found Friar
Bernard and told him the Story
At the first beginning of the Order, when there were but few friars and
their friaries were not yet established, St. Francis repaired for his devotions
to St. James's of Compostella in Galicia, and took a few friars with him, one
of whom was Friar Bernard. And as they journeyed thus together, he
found a poor sick man in a village by the way. Filled with compassion,
he said to Friar Bernard, " Son, I desire that thou remain here to tend this
sick man ; " and Friar Bernard humbly kneeling and bowing his head,
reverently received the holy father's obedience and remained in that place :
and St. Francis and the other companions went their way to St. James's.
Arrived there, they passed the night in prayer in the church of St. James,
where it was revealed to St. Francis that he was to establish many friaries
throughout the world; for his Order was to spread and grow into a great
multitude of friars : whereat, according to this revelation, St. Francis began
to establish friaries in those lands. And as St. Francis was returning by the
way he came, he found Friar Bernard, and the sick man with whom he had
left him, healed perfectly ; whereupon St. Francis gave Friar Bernard leave
to go the following year to St. James's. And St. Francis returned to the
vale of Spoleto, and he and Friar Masseo and Friar Elias and others abode
in a wilderness ; and each took heed not to vex or disturb St. Francis in
his prayers, because of the great reverence they bore him, and because
they knew that God revealed great things to him in his prayers. It fell
out one day, while St. Francis was in the wood at prayer, that a fair
youth, apparelled as for a journey, came to the door of the friary and
knocked so impatiently and loudly and for so long a time that
the friars marvelled much at so unwonted a knocking. Friar
1 Luogo, luogo dei frati : literally, " place of the friars." I have rendered this " friary " as well
as the term convento, used by the Franciscans when in later times their poor hovels and caves
were exchanged for edifices of brick and stone.
8 FRIAR ELIAS
Masseo went and opened the door, and said to the youth, " Whence
comcst thou, my son ; it seemeth thou hast never been here before, so
strangely hast thou knocked." The youth answered, " And how then ought
one to knock ? " Friar Masseo said, " Knock three times, one after the other,
slowly ; then tarry so long as the friar may say a paternoster and come to thee :
and if in this space of time he come not, knock once again." The youth
answered, " I am in great haste, and therefore I knock thus loudly. I have
to go a journey, and am come here to speak with Friar Francis ; but he is now
in the wood in contemplation, and I would not disturb him ; but go and send
Friar Elias to me, for I would ask him a question, and he is very wise."
Friar Masseo goes and bids Friar Elias haste to that youth ; and he takes
offence and will not go. Whereat Friar Masseo knows not what to do,
nor what answer to make to that youth ; for if he said, " Friar Elias can-
not come," he lied ; if he said he was in evil humour, he feared to set a
bad example. And while Friar Masseo was thus laggard in returning, the
youth knocked yet again, even as before. Friar Masseo came back to the
door and said to the youth, "Thou hast not observed my instructions in
knocking." The youth answered, " Friar Elias will not come to me ;
but go thou and say to Friar Francis that I am come to speak with
him ; but since I would not disturb him in his prayers, bid him send
Friar Elias to me." And then Friar Masseo went to St. Francis, that was
praying in the wood with his face lifted up to heaven, and gave him the
youth's message and Friar Elias's reply. And that youth was an angel of
God in human form. Then St. Francis, changing neither his position nor
lowering his face, said to Friar Masseo, " Depart and bid Friar Elias by
obedience go to that youth." Now Friar Elias, when he heard the command
of St. Francis, went in great fury to the door and flung it open with great
violence and noise, saying to the youth, " What wouldst thou ? " The youth
answered, " Beware, friar, lest thou be angry as thou seemest, for anger
hindereth much the soul and cloudeth the perception of truth." Friar Elias
said, " Tell me, what wouldst thou of me ? " The youth answered, " I ask
thee if it be lawful for observers of the holy gospel to eat whatsoever is placed
before them, according as Christ said to His disciples ; and I likewise ask
thee whether it be lawful for any man to command things contrary to
evangelical liberty." Friar Elias answered proudly, "This know I well, but
I will not answer thee : go thy ways." Said the youth, " I could answer
this question better than thou." Then Friar Elias slammed the door in a
FRIAR ELIAS 9
great rage and departed. And then he began to ponder the said question
and to doubt within himself, and he could not solve it ; for he was vicar
of the Order, and had ordered and made a rule outside the gospel and
outside the Rule of St. Francis, to wit, that no friar of the Order should
eat flesh : therefore the said question was aimed against him. Where-
upon, unable to get clear with himself, he began to consider the youth's
modesty, and that he had told him he could answer the question better him-
self. And Friar Elias returned to the door and opened it, to ask the youth
concerning the aforesaid question. But he had already departed, for the pride
of Friar Elias made him unworthy to speak with angels. This done, St.
Francis, to whom all had been revealed by God, returned from the wood,
and loudly and severely reproved Friar Elias, saying, "Thou dost ill, proud
friar, that chasest away the holy angels from us that come to teach us. I
tell thee, much do I fear lest thy pride make thee end thy days outside this
Order." And so it befell thereafter even as St. Francis had said, for he died
outside the Order. On that same day, at the very hour he departed, the
angel appeared in that same form to Friar Bernard, who was walking along the
bank of a great river, on his way back from St. James's, and gave him salutation
in his own tongue, saying, " Hail, good friar, the peace of God be with thee ! "
And Friar Bernard marvelled greatly, and considering the comeliness of the
youth and the salutation of peace in the mother tongue and his glad counte-
nance, questioned him thus : " Whence comest thou, good youth ? " The
angel answered, " I come from such a place, where St. Francis dwells, and I
went to speak with him, but could not, for he was in the wood contemplating
divine things, and I would not disturb him. And in that same house dwell
Friar Masseo and Friar Giles and Friar Elias ; and Friar Masseo taught me
how to knock at the door after the manner of a friar, but Friar Elias, because
he would not answer a question I propounded to him, repented and desired
thereafter to hear and see me ; and he could not." Having spoken these
words the angel said to Friar Bernard, " Wherefore dost thou not pass over
yonder ? " Friar Bernard answered, " Because I dread danger from the depth
of the water I see." Said the angel, " Let us pass over together ; fear not : "
and he takes his hand and in the twinkling of an eye places him on the other
side of the river. Then Friar Bernard knew that he was the angel of God,
and with great reverence and joy said in a loud voice, " O blessed angel of
God, tell me, what is thy name ? " The angel answered, " Wherefore askest
thou my name, which is Marvellous ? " This said, the angel vanished, and left
B
io FRIAR BERNARD
Friar Bernard much consoled, so much that he went all that journey with
great joyfulness ; and he marked the day and the hour of the angel's
appearance. And reaching the friary, where St. Francis was with the
aforesaid companions, he related to them all things in the order of their
happening ; and they knew of a surety that that same angel had appeared
to them and to him on that very day and at that very hour.
CHAPTER V
How the holy Friar Bernard of Assisi was sent by St. Francis to Bologna,
and there established a Friary
Forasmuch as St. Francis and his companions were called and chosen by
God to bear the cross of Christ in their hearts and in their works, and
to preach it with their tongues, they seemed and truly were, men crucified,
so far as regarded their dress, the austerity of their lives, their acts, and
their deeds ; and therefore they desired rather to endure shame and reproach
for love of Christ than worldly honour, or reverence, or praise from men.
Yea, they rejoiced in contumely, and were afflicted by honour ; they went
about the world as pilgrims and strangers, bearing naught with them save
Christ crucified. And because they were true branches of the true vine,
which is Christ, they brought forth great and good fruit in the souls they
won to God. It came to pass in the beginning of the Order that St.
Francis sent Friar Bernard to Bologna, that he might bring forth fruit to
God there, according to the grace God had given him. And Friar
Bernard, having made the sign of holy cross, departed in holy obedience
and came to Bologna. And when the children beheld him in a ragged
and mean habit they mocked him and reviled him loudly as were he a
fool. And Friar Bernard suffered all things patiently and joyfully for the
love of Christ. Aye, and in order that he might be the more derided he
set himself openly in the market-place of the city ; and as he sat there
many children and men gathered around him, and one plucked at his cowl
from behind, and another in front ; one cast dust at him, and another stones ;
one pushed him on this side, and another on that. But Friar Bernard,
neither uttering complaint nor changing his position, abode there patient
and glad ; and for many days he returned to that same place, solely to
AT BOLOGNA n
endure the like things. And since patience is a work of perfection and
proof of virtue, a wise doctor of laws, on beholding Friar Bernard's
exceeding great constancy and virtue, and how he could not be provoked
during many days by any hurt or insult, said within himself, " It is impossible
but that this must be a holy man." And drawing nigh to him, he spake
to him thus, " Who art thou, and wherefore art thou come hither ? " And
for answer Friar Bernard put his hand in his bosom and drew forth the
Rule of St. Francis and gave it him that he might read. And when he
had read it and had considered its lofty perfection, he turned to his com-
panions with greatest amazement and admiration, and said, " Verily this
is the most exalted state of the religious life whereof I ever heard : there-
fore this man and his companions are the most saintly men in this world,
and he who revileth him is the greatest of sinners ; for he is worthy of
highest honour since he is the true friend of God." Then said he to Friar
Bernard, " If you would take a place wherein you might conveniently
serve God, I fain would give it you for the salvation of my soul." Friar
Bernard answered him, " Master, I believe this offer is an inspiration from
our Lord Jesus Christ, and therefore willingly do I accept it for the
honour of Christ." Then the said judge led Friar Bernard to his home
with great love and joy : and he gave him the promised place, and furnished
and completed it at his own cost : and thenceforth he became to him as a
father, and was the diligent upholder of Friar Bernard and his companions.
And Friar Bernard began to be so greatly honoured by all men, that any
one who could touch or behold him held himself blessed. But he, as a
true disciple of Christ and of the lowly Francis, fearing lest the honours of
this world might hinder the peace and salvation of his soul, departed one
day and returned to St. Francis, and spake to him thus, "The place has
been taken in the city of Bologna ; send friars thither to abide and main-
tain it, for I have no profit there ; nay, by reason of the too great honour
done to me, I fear lest I lose more than I should gain." Then St. Francis,
having heard all things in order that God had wrought there through
Friar Bernard, gave thanks to God who thus began to spread abroad the
poor little disciples of the cross : and then he sent some of his companions
to Bologna and to Lombardy, who established many friaries in divers
places.
i2 DEATH OF
CHAPTER VI
How St. Francis blessed the holy Friar Bernard and appointed him to be his Vicar
when he should pass from this life
Friar Bernard was of such holiness that St. Francis bore him great reverence
and ofttimes praised him. St. Francis, being on a day devoutly at prayer, it
was revealed to him of God that Friar Bernard, by divine permission, was
to endure many and grievous assaults from devils ; wherefore St. Francis,
who had great compassion on the said Friar Bernard and loved him as a son,
prayed many days in tears, commending him to Christ Jesus, and entreating
God that victory over the devil might be vouchsafed to him. And one day
while St. Francis was thus devoutly praying, God answered him, saying,
" Francis, fear not ; for all the temptations whereby Friar Bernard shall
be assailed are permitted by God as an exercise of virtue and crown of merit ;
and at the last he shall gain the victory over all his enemies, for he is one
of the ministers of the kingdom of heaven." At which answer St. Francis
rejoiced greatly and gave thanks to God ; and from that hour he bore greater
love and reverence to Friar Bernard. And this he showed not only in his
life, but also at his death, for when St. Francis came to die, after the manner
of the holy patriarch Jacob, with his devout children standing around him,
all sorrowing and weeping at the departure of so loving a father, he asked,
" Where is my first-born ? Come nigh to me, my son, that my soul may
bless thee ere I die." Then Friar Bernard said secretly to Friar Elias, who
was vicar of the Order, " Father, go to the right hand of the saint that he
may bless thee." And Friar Elias drew nigh to his right hand, and St.
Francis, who had lost his sight through excess of weeping, placed his right
hand on Friar Elias's head, and said, " This is not the head of my first-born,
Friar Bernard." Then Friar Bernard went to his left hand, and St. Francis
moved his hands over in the form of a cross, and placed his right hand on Friar
Bernard's head and his left on Friar Elias's head, and said to Friar Bernard,
" God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ bless thee with all spiritual and
celestial blessings. Thou art the first-born, chosen in this holy Order to give
evangelical example, and to follow Christ in evangelical poverty, for not only
gavest thou thine own substance and didst distribute it wholly and freely to
the poor for love of Christ, but thou didst offer thyself also to God in this
FRIAR BERNARD 13
Order, a sacrifice of sweetness. Blessed be thou therefore by our Lord Jesus
Christ and by me, poor little one, His servant, with blessings everlasting,
walking and standing, watching and sleeping, living and dying. Let him that
blesseth thee be filled with blessings, and he who curseth thee go not unpunished.
Be thou Lord over thy brethren and let all the friars obey thy commands ;
whosoever thou wilt, let him be received into this Order ; let no friar have
lordship over thee, and be it lawful to thee to go and to abide wheresoever it
may please thee." And after the death of St. Francis, the friars loved and
revered Friar Bernard as a venerable father ; and when he was nigh unto death,
many friars came to him from divers parts of the earth, among whom was that
angelic and divine Friar Giles ; and he, beholding Friar Bernard, cried with
great joy, " Sur sum corda, Friar Bernard, sursum corda!" and Friar Bernard
secretly bade a friar prepare for Friar Giles a place meet for contemplation ;
and this was done. Now Friar Bernard being come to the last hour of death,
had himself raised up and spake to the friars that stood around him, saying,
" Brethren, most dear, I will not say many words to you, but ye must consider
that this religious state wherein I have lived, ye live ; and such as I am now,
ye shall be also, and this I know in my soul — that not for a thousand worlds
such as this would I have renounced the service of our Lord Jesus Christ for
that of any other lord, and I do now accuse me of all my offences, and confess
my sins to Jesus my Saviour, and to you. I beseech you, dearest brothers mine,
that ye love one another." And after these words and other good exhortations
he lay back in his bed, and his countenance shone with exceeding great joy ;
whereat all the friars marvelled greatly ; and in that joy his most holy soul
departed from this present life, crowned with glory, to the blessed life of
the angels.
CHAPTER VII
How St. Francis kept Lent on an island in the Lake of Perugia, where he fasted
forty days and forty nights, and ate no more than half a loaf
Forasmuch as St. Francis, the true servant of Christ, was in certain things
well-nigh another Christ given to the world for the salvation of souls, it was
the will of God the Father that in many of his acts he should be conformable
and like unto His Son Jesus Christ, even as he showed to us in the venerable
company of the twelve companions and in the wondrous mystery of the sacred
1 4 ST. FRANCIS
stigmas, and in the continuous fast of the holy Lent, which he kept in this
wise. St. Francis was once lodging on carnival day in the house of one of
his devout followers on the shores of the lake of Perugia, and was inspired
by God to go and pass that Lent on an island in the lake ; wherefore St.
Francis prayed his disciple to carry him in his little bark to an island, whereon
no man dwelt, and this on the night of Ash Wednesday, to the end that none
should perceive it. And he, by the great love and devotion he bore to
St. Francis, diligently satisfied his desire, and carried him to the said island,
St. Francis taking with him naught save two small loaves. And when he
had reached the island, and his friend was about to depart and return to his
home, St. Francis prayed him earnestly to reveal to no man where he was,
nor to come for him before Holy Thursday ; and so the friend departed and
St. Francis remained alone. And finding no house wherein he could take
shelter, he crept into a very dense thicket of thorn and other bushes fashioned
after the manner of a lair or a little hut : and in this place he betook himself
to prayer and to the contemplation of divine things. And there he abode
the whole of Lent, eating and drinking naught save the half of one of those
small loaves, even as his devout friend perceived when he returned for him
on Holy Thursday : for of the loaves he found one whole and the other half
eaten. And it was believed that St. Francis ate this through reverence for
the fasting of Jesus Christ, who fasted forty days and forty nights without
taking any bodily food ; for with this half-loaf he cast the venom of vain-
glory from him while following the ensample of Christ in the fast of forty
days and forty nights. And God wrought many miracles thereafter in that
same place where St. Francis had endured so marvellous an abstinence, because
of his merits : wherefore folk began to build houses and to dwell there. And
in brief time a fair village was built there, and there also is the friary that
is called of the island ; and to this day the men and women of that village
hold the place where St. Francis kept Lent in great devotion and reverence.
CHAPTER VIII
How St. Francis, as they journeyed together, set forth to Friar Leo where
perfect joy was to be found
One winter's day, as St. Francis was going from Perugia with Friar Leo to
St. Mary of the Angels, suffering sorely from the bitter cold, he called Friar
&p FRIAR LEO 15
Leo, who was going before him, and spake thus, " Friar Leo, albeit the friars
minor in every land give good examples of holiness and edification, nevertheless
write and note down diligently that perfect joy is not to be found therein."
And St. Francis went his way a little farther, and called him a second time,
saying, " O Friar Leo, even though the friar minor gave sight to the blind,
made the crooked straight, cast out devils, made the deaf to hear, the lame
to walk, and restored speech to the dumb, and, what is a yet greater thing,
raised to life those who have lain four days in the grave ; write — perfect joy
is not found there." And he* journeyed on a little while, and cried aloud,
" O Friar Leo, if the friar minor knew all tongues and all the sciences and
all the Scriptures, so that he could foretell and reveal not only future things,
but even the secrets of the conscience and of the soul ; write — perfect joy
is not there." Yet a little farther went St. Francis, and cried again aloud,
" O Friar Leo, little sheep of God, even though the friar minor spake with
the tongue of angels and knew the courses of the stars and the virtues of
herbs, and were the hidden treasures of the earth revealed to him, and he
knew the qualities of birds, and of fishes, and of all animals, and of man,
and of trees, and stones, and roots, and waters ; write — not there is perfect
joy." And St. Francis went on again a little space, and cried aloud, " O
Friar Leo, although the friar minor were skilled to preach so well that he
should convert all the infidels to the faith of Christ ; write — not there is
perfect joy." And when this fashion of talk had endured two good miles,
Friar Leo asked him in great wonder and said, " Father, prithee in God's
name tell me where is perfect joy to be found ? " And St. Francis answered
him thus, " When we are come to St. Mary of the Angels, wet through with
rain, frozen with cold, and foul with mire and tormented with hunger ; and
when we knock at the door, the doorkeeper cometh in a rage and saith,
' Who are ye ? ' and we say, ' We are two of your friars,' and he answers,
' Ye tell not true ; ye are rather two knaves that go deceiving the world
and stealing the alms of the poor ; begone ! ' and he openeth not to us, and
maketh us stay outside hungry and cold all night in the rain and snow ;
then if we endure patiently such cruelty, such abuse, and such insolent
dismissal without complaint or murmuring, and believe humbly and charitably
that that doorkeeper truly knoweth us, and that God maketh him to rail
against us ; O Friar Leo, write — there is perfect joy. And if we persevere
in our knocking, and he issues forth and angrily drives us away, abusing
us and smiting us on the cheek, saying, ' Go hence, ye vile thieves, get ye
1 6 FRIAR LEO
gone to the spital, for here ye shall neither eat nor lodge ' ; if this we suffer
patiently with love and gladness ; write, O Friar Leo — this is perfect joy.
And if, constrained by hunger and by cold, we knock once more and pray
with many tears that he open to us for the love of God and let us but
come inside, and he more insolently than ever crieth, 'These be impudent
rogues, I will pay them out as they deserve ' ; and issues forth with a big
knotted stick and seizes us by our cowls and flings us on the ground and
rolls us in the snow, bruising every bone in our bodies with that heavy stick —
if we, thinking on the agony of the blessed Christ, endure all these things
patiently and joyously for love of Him ; write, O Friar Leo, that here and
in this, perfect joy is found. And now, Friar Leo, hear the conclusion.
Above all the grace and the gifts of the Holy Spirit that Christ giveth to
His beloved is that of overcoming self, and for love of Him willingly to
bear pain and bufFetings and revilings and discomfort ; for in none other of
God's gifts, save these, may we glory, seeing they are not ours, but of God.
Wherefore the Apostle saith, ' What hast thou that is not of God, and if
thou hast received it of Him, wherefore dost thou glory as if thou hadst it
of thyself ? ' But in the cross of tribulation and of affliction we may glory,
because this is ours. Therefore the Apostle saith, ' I will not glory save in
the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.' "
CHAPTER IX
How St. Francis taught Friar Leo how to answer him, and Friar Leo could never
say aught save the contrary of that which St. Francis bade him answer
In the early days of the Order, St. Francis and Friar Leo were once in a
friary where no book could be found wherefrom the divine offices might be
said ; and when the hour of matins was come, St. Francis said to Friar Leo,
" Dearest, we have no breviary to say matins from ; but in order that we may
spend the time in praise of God, I will speak and thou shalt answer me as I
teach thee, and beware lest thou change one of the words I teach thee. I
will say thus, ' O Friar Francis, thou hast done so many evil deeds and com-
mitted so many sins in the world that thou art deserving of hell' ; and thou,
Friar Leo, shalt answer, ' Truly thou dost merit the deepest hell.' " And
Friar Leo said, with dove-like simplicity, " Willingly, father ; do thou begin
FRIAR LEO 17
in God's name." Then St. Francis began to say, " O Friar Francis, thou hast
done so many evil deeds and hast committed so many sins in the world that
thou art deserving of hell." And Friar Leo answers, " God will perform so
many good works through thee that thou shalt go to paradise." Saith St.
Francis, " Say not so, Friar Leo, but when I say, ' O Friar Francis, thou hast
committed so many iniquities against God that thou art worthy of being
cursed by God,' do thou answer thus, ' Verily thou art worthy of being
numbered among the accursed.' " And Friar Leo answers, " Willingly,
father." Then St. Francis, with many tears and sighs and smitings of the
breast, said with a loud voice, " O Lord God of heaven and earth, I have
committed so many sins and iniquities against Thee that I am wholly worthy
of being cursed by Thee." And Brother Leo answers, " O Friar Francis,
God will do in such wise that among the blessed thou shalt be singularly
blessed." St. Francis, marvelling that Friar Leo ever answered contrary to
that which he had charged him, rebuked him thus, saying, " Wherefore
answerest thou not as I teach thee ? I command thee by holy obedience that
thou answer as I teach thee. I will say thus, ' O Friar Francis, little wretch,
thinkest thou God will have mercy on thee, seeing thou hast committed so
many sins against the Father of mercies and God of all consolations that thou
art not worthy to find mercy ? ' And thou, Friar Leo, little sheep, shalt
answer, ' In no wise art thou worthy of finding mercy.' " But when St. Francis
said, "O Friar Francis, little wretch," et cetera^ lo, Friar Leo answered, "God
the Father, whose mercy is infinite, far exceeding thy sins, will show great
mercy to thee, and will add likewise many graces thereto." At this answer
St. Francis, sweetly angry and meekly perturbed, said to Friar Leo, " Where-
fore hast thou had the presumption to act counter to obedience, and so many
times hast answered the contrary of what I told thee and charged thee ? "
Friar Leo answers, with deep humility and reverence, " God knoweth, my
father ; for I have purposed in my heart each time to answer as thou hast
commanded me ; but God maketh me to speak as it pleaseth Him, and not as
it pleaseth me." Whereat St. Francis marvelled, and said to Friar Leo, " I
pray thee most dearly, answer me this once, as I have charged thee." Said
Friar Leo, " Say on, in God's name, for of a surety this time I will answer as
thou desirest." And St. Francis said, in tears, " O Friar Francis, little wretch,
thinkest thou God will have mercy on thee ? " et cetera. And Friar Leo
answers, " Nay, rather great grace shalt thou receive of God, and He will
exalt thee and glorify thee everlastingly, because he that humbleth himself
1 8 FRIAR MASSEO
shall be exalted ; and naught else can I say, for God speaketh by my mouth."
And so in this lowly disputation, with many tears and much spiritual consola-
tion, they watched until the dawn.
CHAPTER X
How Friar Masseo, half in jest, said to St. Francis that the whole world was follow-
ing after him ; and St. Francis answered that by God's grace it was so to
the confusion of the world
While St. Francis was abiding at the friary of the Porziuncula with Friar
Masseo of Marignano, a man of great holiness and discernment and grace in
discoursing of God, and therefore much beloved of him, he was returning
one day from prayer in the wood, and was already on the point of issuing
therefrom, when Friar Masseo, desiring to prove his humility, made towards
him and said, half jestingly, " Why after thee ? Why after thee ? Why
after thee ? " And St. Francis answered, " What meanest thou ? " Said Friar
Masseo, " I mean why doth all the world follow after thee, and why doth
every man desire to see thee and to hear thee and to obey thee ? Thou art
not fair to look upon ; thou art not a man of great parts ; thou art not of
noble birth. Whence cometh it, then, that all the world followeth after
thee ? " When St. Francis heard this he rejoiced exceedingly in spirit, and
raising his face to heaven, remained for a great space with his soul uplifted
to God. And then, returning to himself, he knelt down and gave praise and
thanks to God. Then with great fervour of spirit he turned to Friar Masseo
and said, " Wouldst thou know why after me ? Wouldst thou know why
after me ? Wouldst thou know why after me ? Know that this I have from
those eyes of the most high God, that everywhere behold the righteous and
the wicked, and forasmuch as those most holy eyes have beheld among sinners
none more vile, none more imperfect, nor a greater sinner than I, therefore
since He hath found no viler creature an earth to accomplish the marvellous
work He intendeth, He hath chosen me to confound the nobility, the majesty,
the might, the beauty, and the wisdom of the world, in order to make manifest
that every virtue and every good thing cometh from Him the Creator, and
not from the creature, and that none may glory before Him : but that he that
glories shall glory in the Lord, to whom belong all glory and all honour for
FRIAR MASSED 19
ever and ever." Then Friar Masseo waxed sore afraid at this lowly answer
given with great fervour, and knew of a surety that St. Francis was grounded
in humility.
CHAPTER XI
How St. Francis made Friar Masseo turn round and round many times, and
then went his way to Siena
On a day as St. Francis was journeying with Friar Masseo, the said Friar Masseo
went a little in front of him ; and when they reached a point where three
ways met — one leading to Florence, another to Siena, and a third to Arezzo —
Friar Masseo said, " Father, which road ought we to follow ? " St. Francis
answered, "That which God willeth." Said Friar Masseo, "And how shall
we know the will of God ? " St. Francis answered, " By the token I shall
show thee : wherefore I command thee by the merit of holy obedience that
at this parting of the ways, and on the spot where thou now standest, thou
shalt turn round and round as children do, and shalt not cease turning until
I bid thee." Then Friar Masseo began to turn round and round, and con-
tinued so long that by reason of the giddiness which is wont to be begotten
by such turning, he fell many times to the ground ; but, as St. Francis did
not bid him stay, he rose up again, for faithfully he desired to obey him. At
length, when he was turning lustily, St. Francis cried, " Stay ; stir not ! "
And he stayed. Then St. Francis asked him, "Towards which part is thy
face turned ? " Friar Masseo answers, " Towards Siena." Said St. Francis,
" That is the road God wills we should go." And as they walked by the
way, Friar Masseo marvelled that St. Francis had made him turn round and
round even as a child doth, in the presence of secular folk that were passing
by : yet for very reverence he dared say naught thereof to the holy father.
As they drew nigh to Siena the people of that city, hearing of the advent of
the saint, made towards him ; and in their devotion they carried the saint
and his companion shoulder high as far as the bishop's house, so that they
never touched ground with their feet. Now in that same hour certain men
of Siena were fighting among themselves, and already two of them had been
slain. When St. Francis came among them he preached with such great
devotion and sanctity that he brought the whole of them to make peace
and to dwell in great unity and concord together. Wherefore, when the
bishop of Siena heard of the holy work that St. Francis had accomplished,
io . FRIAR MASSEO
he invited him to his house, and received him that day and that night also
with the greatest honour. And the following morning St. Francis, who in
all his works sought but the glory of God, arose betimes and with true
humility departed with his companion without the knowledge of the bishop.
Wherefore the said Friar Masseo went murmuring within himself by the way,
and saying, " What is this that holy man hath done ? Me he made to turn
round and round as a child, and to the bishop who did him so much honour
he said naught, not even a word of thanks " : and it seemed to Friar Masseo
that St. Francis had borne himself indiscreetly. But soon, by divine inspira-
tion, Friar Masseo bethought him and reproved himself in his heart, and said,
"Friar Masseo, thou art over-proud, thou that judgest the ways of God, and
for thy indiscreet pride art worthy of hell. For yesterday Friar Francis
wrought such holy works, that they could not have been more marvellous
if the angel of God had done them. Wherefore if he should command thee
to cast stones, thou shouldst obey him ; for what he hath wrought in this
city hath been by divine operation, even as is manifest in the good that
followeth thereafter ; because had he not made peace among those that were
fighting, not only would many bodies have been slain by the knife (even as
had already begun to come to pass), but many souls likewise would have been
dragged to hell by the devil. Therefore art thou very foolish and proud, thou
that murmurest at these things which manifestly proceed according to the
will of God." Now all these things that this friar was saying in his heart
were revealed by God to St. Francis, wherefore St. Francis drew nigh to him
and said, " Hold fast to those things that thou art now thinking, for they arc
good and profitable, and inspired by God ; but thy first murmurings were
blind and vain and proud, and instigated by the evil one." Then did Friar
Masseo perceive clearly that St. Francis knew the secrets of his heart, and he
understood that of a surety the Spirit of divine wisdom governed the holy
father in all his works.
CHAPTER XII
How St. Francis appointed Friar Masseo to be doorkeeper, almoner, and cook :
then removed him at the entreaties of the other Friars
St. Francis, desiring to humble Friar Masseo in order that by reason of
the many gifts and graces that God had bestowed on him he should not be
puffed up with vainglory, but by virtue of humility should increase from
FRIAR MASSEO 21
virtue to virtue, said to him on a day when he was dwelling with his first
companions in a solitary place — those truly holy companions whereof Friar
Masseo was one, — " O Friar Masseo, all these thy companions have the gift
of contemplation and of prayer ; but thou hast the gift of preaching the word
of God to the satisfaction of the people. Therefore I will that thou take
upon thee the offices of doorkeeper, of almoner, and of cook, in order that
thy companions may give themselves up to contemplation ; and that when
the other friars are eating, thou shalt eat outside the door of the friary, so
that thou mayst satisfy with some sweet words of God those who come to
the convent, ere they knock ; and so that no other friar than thou have need
to go outside. And this do through the merit of holy obedience." Then
Friar Masseo drew back his cowl and inclined his head and humbly received
and fulfilled this command, and for many days he discharged the offices of
doorkeeper, and almoner, and cook. Whereat the companions, even as men
illumined by God, began to feel great remorse in their hearts, considering that
Friar Masseo was a man of as great perfection as they were, or even greater ;
and yet on him was laid the whole burden of the convent, and not on them.
Wherefore, moved by one desire, they went with one accord and entreated
the holy father to be pleased to distribute those offices among them ; for in
no wise could they endure in their conscience that Friar Masseo should bear
so many burdens. When St. Francis heard this he gave heed to their prayers
and consented to their desire, and calling Friar Masseo he thus spake to him,
" Friar Masseo, thy companions would have a share in the offices wherewith
I have charged thee : it is therefore my will that the said offices be divided."
Says Friar Masseo, with great humility and meekness, " Father, whatsoever
thou layest upon me, either all or part, that I hold to be wholly done of God."
Then St. Francis, beholding the love of them and the humility of Friar
Masseo, preached a wondrous sermon touching most holy humility, admon-
ishing them that the greater the gifts and graces that God bestows upon us,
the greater ought our humility to be ; for without humility no virtue is
acceptable to God. And when he had made an end of his sermon he appor-
tioned the offices among them with the greatest loving-kindness.
22 FRIAR MASSEO
CHAPTER XIII
How St. Francis and Friar Masseo set down the bread they had begged on a stone
beside a springs and St. Francis greatly praised poverty. Then he prayed unto
God and St. Peter and St. Paul that they would inspire him with the love of
holy poverty ; and how St. Peter and St. Paul appeared to him
The wondrous servant and follower of Christ, to wit, St. Francis, to the end
that he might conform himself to Christ perfectly in all things (who, according
to the gospel, sent His disciples two by two unto all those cities and places
whither He was to go), gathered together twelve companions and sent them
forth after the example of Christ, two by two, to preach throughout the world.
And St. Francis, that he might give them an example of true obedience, him-
self set forth first, after the example of Christ, who began to do before He
began to teach. Wherefore, having assigned to his companions the other
quarters of the world, he took Friar Masseo with him as his companion and
went his way towards the land of France. And journeying one day they came
to a city sore a-hungered, and went, according to the Rule, begging bread for
love of God : and St. Francis took one street and Friar Masseo another. But
forasmuch as St. Francis was a man of mean appearance and short of stature,
and therefore looked down upon as a poor vile creature by those who knew
him not, he collected naught save a few mouthfuls of dry crusts ; but to Friar
Masseo many large pieces of bread and even whole loaves were given, for he
was fair and tall of body. And after they had begged their food, they met to
eat together at a place outside the city where was a fair fountain, and beside it
a fair broad stone, whereon each laid the alms he had collected. Now when
St. Francis saw that the bread and loaves brought by Friar Masseo were finer
and larger than his own, he showed forth exceeding great joy, and spake thus,
" O Friar Masseo, we are not worthy of so great a treasure." And having re-
peated these words many times, Friar Masseo answered, " Dearest father, how
can that be called a treasure where there is poverty so great and such lack of
needful things ? Here is neither cloth, nor knife, nor trencher, nor bowl, nor
house, nor table, nor man-servant, nor maid-servant." Then said St. Francis,
" And this is what I hold to be a great treasure : where there is no dwelling
made by human hands, but all is prepared for us by divine providence, even as
FRIAR MASSEO 23
is made manifest by the bread we have collected on this table of stone so fair
and this fountain so clear. Therefore I desire that we pray unto God that He
may make us love with all our hearts this noble treasure of holy poverty that
hath God for its servitor." After these words they refreshed their bodies, and
having made their prayer, rose up and journeyed on to France. And when
they came to a church, St. Francis said to his companion, " Let us enter into
this church to pray." And St. Francis went behind the altar and knelt down
in prayer. And as he prayed he was inspired by the divine presence with
fervour so exceeding great that his whole soul was inflamed with love for holv
poverty ; in such wise that what with the hue of his face and the strange
yawning of his mouth, it seemed as if flames of love were bursting from him.
And coming thus aflame towards his companion, he spake thus to him, " Ah,
ah, ah, Friar Masseo ; give thyself to me." And this he said thrice ; and the
third time St. Francis lifted up Friar Masseo into the air with his breath, and
cast him away from him the length of a tall spear ; whereat Friar Masseo was
filled with great amaze. And he afterwards related to his companions that
when St. Francis thus lifted him up and cast him from him with his breath,
he felt such great sweetness in his soul, and such deep consolation from the
Holy Spirit, that never in his life had he felt the like. This done, St. Francis
said, " Dearest companion, go we now to St. Peter and St. Paul and pray them
to teach us and aid us to possess this boundless treasure of holiest poverty ; for
it is a treasure of such exceeding worth and so divine that we are unworthy to
possess it in our vile vessels. Yea ! this is that celestial virtue whereby all
earthly and transitory things are trodden under foot and whereby every
hindrance is removed from the soul that she may be freely conjoined with the
eternal God. This is the virtue that maketh the soul, while yet on earth,
have communion with the angels in heaven ; that companioned Christ on the
cross ; with Christ was buried ; with Christ rose again, and with Christ
ascended into heaven. It is this virtue also that easeth the flight into heaven
of those souls that love it ; for it guards the armour of true humility and
charity. Therefore let us pray unto the most holy Apostles of Christ, who
were perfect lovers of this pearl evangelical, to obtain for us this grace from
our Lord Jesus Christ : that He in His holy mercy may vouchsafe to us to
grow worthy to be true lovers and followers and humble disciples of the most
precious and most lovable gospel poverty." Thus discoursing, they came to
Rome and entered St. Peter's Church ; and St. Francis set himself to pray in
one corner of the church, and Friar Masseo in another. And as St. Francis
24 THE BLESSED CHRIST
remained in prayer a long while, with many tears and great devotion, the holy
Apostles Peter and Paul appeared to him in great splendour, and said, " Foras-
much as thou askest and desirest to serve that which Christ and His holy
Apostles served, our Lord Jesus Christ sendeth us to announce to thee that thy
prayer is heard, and that God granteth to thee and to thy followers the perfect
treasure of holiest poverty. And from Him also we say unto thee, that who-
soever, following thy example, shall pursue this desire perfectly, he is assured
of the blessedness of life eternal ; and that thou and all thy followers shall be
blessed of God." These words said, they vanished, leaving St. Francis filled
with consolation ; who, rising from prayer, returned to his companion and
asked him if God had revealed aught to him ; and he answered, " Nay."
Then St. Francis told him how the holy apostles had appeared to him, and
what they had revealed. Whereupon each of them, filled with joy, purposed
to return to the vale of Spoleto, and renounce the journey into France.
CHAPTER XIV
How, while St. Francis and his Friars were discoursing of God, He appeared
in their midst
In the early days of the Order, as St. Francis was communing with his
companions and discoursing of Christ, he, in fervour of spirit, bade one of
them open his lips in God's name and speak what the Holy Ghost would
inspire him to say concerning God. This friar having fulfilled his behest and
discoursed wondrously of God, St. Francis laid silence upon him, and gave a
like command to another friar. He also having obeyed and spoken subtly of
God, St. Francis in like manner laid silence upon him, and bade a third speak
of God ; and he likewise began to discourse so profoundly of the hidden
things of God that St. Francis knew of a surety that he, together with the
other two, had spoken by the Holy Ghost ; and this was shown forth also
by ensample and by a clear token ; for while they were thus speaking the
blessed Christ appeared in the midst of them in the similitude and form of
a most fair youth, and blessed them and filled them with so much grace and
sweetness that they all were rapt out of themselves, and lay as though dead
and insensible to the things of this world. And when they returned to them-
selves, St. Francis said to them, " Brothers mine, most dear, give thanks to
VISIT TO ST. CLARE 25
God, who hath willed to reveal the treasures of divine wisdom through the
lips of the simple ; for God is He that openeth the mouths of the dumb, and
the tongues of the simple He maketh to speak, great wisdom."
CHAPTER XV
How St. Clare ate with St. Francis and his Fellow-Friars at St. Mary of the Angels
When St. Francis was at Assisi he visited St. Clare many times and gave her
holy instruction ; and she, having great desire to eat once with him, did
entreat him thereof many times, but never would he grant her this consolation.
Whereupon his companions, beholding St. Clare's desire, spake to St. Francis
and said, " Father, it seemeth to us too severe a thing and not in accord with
divine charity that thou grantest not the prayer of Sister Clare, that is a virgin
so holy and so beloved of God, in so small a grace as to eat with thee ; above
all, when we consider that through thy preaching she forsook the pomps and
riches of this world. Nay, had she asked even greater grace of thee thou shouldst
grant it to her, thy spiritual plant." Then St. Francis answered, "Doth it
seem good to you that I should grant her prayer ? " His companions made
answer, " Father, even so, for it is meet that thou grant her this grace and
give her consolation." Then said St. Francis, " Since it seemeth good to you,
even so it seemeth good to me. But that she may be the more consoled,
I desire that this repast be made in St. Mary of the Angels ; for long hath she
been shut up in St. Damian's, and it will profit her to behold the friary of
St. Mary, where her hair was shorn and she became the spouse of Jesus
Christ : there will we break bread together in the name of God." And when
the appointed day came, St. Clare came forth from the convent with one
companion, and, accompanied by the companions of St. Francis, journeyed
to St. Mary of the Angels ; and having devoutly saluted the Virgin Mary,
before whose altar she had been shorn and veiled, the companions conducted
her around to see the friary of St. Mary's until the hour of the repast was
come. Meanwhile St. Francis made ready the table on the bare ground,
as he was wont to do. And the hour for dinner being come, St. Francis
and St. Clare, and one of the companions of St. Francis and the companion
of St. Clare, seated themselves together ; and all the other companions of
St. Francis then humbly took their places at the table. And for the first dish
2 6 VISIT TO ST CLARE
St. Francis began to discourse of God so sweetly, so loftily, and so wondrously
that a bounteous measure of divine grace descended upon them and they were
all rapt in God. And being thus ravished, with eyes and hands lifted up
to heaven, the men of Assisi and of Bettona, and the men of the country
round about, beheld St. Mary of the Angels and the whole friary and the
wood that was around about it brightly flaming ; and it seemed as 'twere
a great fire that was devouring the church and the friary and the wood
together : wherefore the men of Assisi, verily believing that everything was in
flames, ran down thither with great haste to quench the fire. But when they
came to the friary and found nothing burning, they entered within and beheld
St. Francis with St. Clare and all their companions seated around that humble
table and rapt in the contemplation of God. Wherefore they understood that
truly the fire had not been a material fire, but a divine fire which God had
miraculously made to appear in order to show forth and signify the fire of
divine love wherewith the souls of these holy friars and holy nuns did burn :
and they departed with great consolation in their hearts and with holy
edification. Then after a long space St. Francis and St. Clare, together with
the companions, returned to themselves, and feeling well comforted with
spiritual food, took little heed of corporeal food ; and thus that blessed repast
being ended, St. Clare, well companioned, returned to St. Damian's. And
when the sisters beheld her they had great joy, for they feared lest St. Francis
had sent her to rule over some other convent, even as he had already sent
Sister Agnes, her holy sister, to rule, as abbess, over the convent of Monticelli
at Florence. For on a time St. Francis had said to St. Clare, " Make thee
ready if it so be that I must needs send thee to another convent." And she,
even as a daughter of holy obedience, had answered, " Father, behold I am ever
ready to go whithersoever thou wilt send me." Therefore the sisters rejoiced
greatly when they had her back again, and thenceforth St. Clare abode there
much consoled.
CHAPTER XVI
How St. Francis had Counsel from St. Clare and from the holy Friar Silvester,
to wit, that he was to Convert much People : and how he established the Third
Order and preached to the Birds and made the Swallows hold their Peace
St. Francis, humble servant of God, short time after his conversion, having
gathered together many companions and received them into the Order, fell
THE THIRD ORDER 27
into great perplexity and doubt touching what it behoved him to do — whether
to be wholly intent on prayer, or sometimes to preach. And greatly he desired
to know the will of God touching these things. But since the holy humility
wherewith he was filled suffered him not to lean overmuch on his own judg-
ment, nor on his own prayers, he bethought him to seek the divine will
through the prayers of others. Wherefore he called Friar Masseo to him and
spake to him thus, " Go to Sister Clare and bid her from me that she and
some of the most spiritual of her companions pray devoutly unto God, that
He may be pleased to reveal to me which is the more excellent way : whether
to give myself up to preaching or wholly to prayer ; then go to Friar
Silvester and bid him do the like." Now he had been in the world and
was that same Friar Silvester that beheld a cross of gold issue from the mouth
of St. Francis, the length whereof was high as heaven, and the breadth whereof
reached to the uttermost parts of the earth. And this Friar Silvester was
a man of such great devotion and holiness that whatsoever he asked of God
he obtained, and the same was granted to him ; and ofttimes he spake with
God, wherefore great was the devotion of St. Francis to him. Friar Masseo
went forth and gave his message first to St. Clare, as St. Francis had com-
manded, and then to Friar Silvester, who no sooner had heard the command
than he straightway betook himself to prayer, and when he had received the
divine answer, he returned to Friar Masseo and spake these words, "Thus
saith the Lord God, ' Go to Friar Francis and say unto him that God hath
not called him to this state for himself alone, but that he may bring forth fruit
of souls and that many through him may be saved.'" Friar Masseo, having
received this answer, returned to Sister Clare to learn what answer she had
obtained of God ; and she answered that she and her companions had received
the selfsame response from God that Friar Silvester had. And Friar Masseo
returned with this answer to St. Francis, who greeted him with greatest charity,
washing his feet and setting meat before him. And St. Francis called Friar
Masseo into the wood, after he had eaten, and there knelt down before him,
drew back his cowl, and making a cross with his arms, asked of him, " What
doth my Lord Jesus Christ command ? " Friar Masseo answers, " Thus
to Friar Silvester and thus to Sister Clare and her sisterhood hath Christ
answered and revealed His will : that thou go forth to preach throughout
the world, for He hath not chosen thee for thyself alone, but also for the
salvation of others." Then St. Francis, when he had heard these words and
learned thereby the will of Christ, rose up and said with great fervour, " Let
28 THE THIRD ORDER
us then go forth in God's name." And with him he took Friar Masseo and
Friar Angelo, holy men both, and setting forth with great fervour of spirit
and taking heed neither of road nor path, they came to a city called
Saburniano. And St. Francis began to preach, first commanding the swallows
to keep silence until his sermon were ended ; and the swallows obeying him,
he preached with such zeal that all the men and women of that city desired
in their devotion to follow after him and forsake the city. But St. Francis
suffered them not, saying, " Be not in haste to depart, for I will ordain what
ye shall do for the salvation of your souls." And then he bethought him
of the third Order which he stablished for the universal salvation of all
people. And so, leaving them much comforted and well disposed to penitence,
he departed thence and came to a place between Cannara and Bevagna. And
journeying on in that same fervour of spirit, he lifted up his eyes and beheld
some trees by the wayside whereon were an infinite multitude of birds ; so
that he marvelled and said to his companions, " Tarry here for me by the way
and I will go and preach to my little sisters the birds." And he entered into
the field and began to preach to the birds that were on the ground ; and anon
those that were on the trees flew down to hear him, and all stood still the while
St. Francis made an end of his sermon ; and even then they departed not until
he had given them his blessing. And according as Friar Masseo and Friar
James of Massa thereafter related, St. Francis went among them, touching
them with the hem of his garment, and not one stirred. And the substance
of the sermon St. Francis preached was this, " My little sisters the birds, much
are ye beholden to God your Creator, and alway and in every place ye ought
to praise Him for that He hath given you a double and a triple vesture ; He
hath given you freedom to go into every place, and also did preserve the seed
of you in the ark of Noe, in order that your kind might not perish from the
earth. Again, ye are beholden to Him for the element of air which He hath
appointed for you ; moreover, ye sow not, neither do ye reap, and God feedeth
you and giveth you the rivers and the fountains for your drink ; He giveth
you the mountains and the valleys for your refuge, and the tall trees wherein
to build your nests, and forasmuch as ye can neither spin nor sew God clotheth
you, you and your children : wherefore your Creator loveth you much, since
He hath dealt so bounteously with you ; and therefore beware, little sisters
mine, of the sin of ingratitude, but ever strive to praise God." While
St. Francis was uttering these words, all those birds began to open their
beaks, and stretch their necks, and spread their wings, and reverently to bow
■■■i
i - ■&'".; •■-' ~'
|ptt
THE "BOY FRIAR 29
their heads to the ground, showing by their gestures and songs that the holy
father's words gave them greatest joy : and St. Francis was glad and rejoiced
with them, and marvelled much at so great a multitude of birds and at their
manifold loveliness, and at their attention and familiarity ; for which things
he devoutly praised the Creator in them. Finally, his sermon ended, St.
Francis made the sign of holy cross over them and gave them leave to
depart ; and all those birds soared up into the air in one flock with wondrous
songs, and then divided themselves into four parts after the form of the cross
St. Francis had made over them ; and one part flew towards the east ; another
towards the west ; the third towards the south, and the fourth towards the
north. And each flock sped forth singing wondrously, betokening thereby
that even as St. Francis, standard-bearer of the cross of Christ, had preached
to them and had made the sign of the cross over them, according to which
they had divided themselves, singing, among the four quarters of the world,
so the preaching of Christ's cross, renewed by St. Francis, was, through him
and his friars, to be borne throughout the whole world ; the which friars
possessing nothing of their own in this world, after the manner of birds,
committed their lives wholly to the providence of God.
CHAPTER XVII
How a Little Boy Friar, while St. Francis was Praying by Night, beheld Christ
and the Virgin Mary and many other Saints discoursing with him
A boy, most pure and innocent, was received into the Order, during the life of
St. Francis, in a convent so small that the friars were of necessity constrained to
sleep two in a bed. And St. Francis once came to the said convent, and at
even, after compline, lay down to rest that he might rise up to pray in the
night while the other friars slept, as he was wont to do. The said boy having
set his heart on spying out diligently the ways of St. Francis, lay down to
sleep beside St. Francis that he might understand his holiness, and chiefly what
he did by night when he rose up ; and in order that sleep might not beguile
him, he tied his own cord to the cord of St. Francis, that he might feel when
he stirred : and of this St. Francis perceived naught. But by night, during the
first sleep, when all the friars were slumbering, St. Francis arose and found his
cord thus tied ; and he loosed it so gently that the boy felt it not, and went
3o CHAPTER OF THE MATS
forth alone into the wood near the friary, and entered into a little cell there
and betook himself to prayer. After some space the boy awoke, and finding
his cord loosed, and St. Francis risen, he rose up likewise and went seeking
him, and finding the door open which led to the wood, he thought St. Francis
had gone thither, and he entered the wood. And coming nigh unto the place
where St. Francis was praying, he began to hear much talking ; and as he
drew closer to see and understand what he heard, he beheld a wondrous light
that encompassed St. Francis, wherein were Christ and the Virgin Mary, and
St. John the Baptist, and the Evangelist, and an infinite multitude of angels
that were speaking with St. Francis. Seeing and hearing this, the boy fell
lifeless to the earth. And the mystery of that holy apparition being ended,
St. Francis, as he returned to the house, stumbled with his foot against the
boy, who lay as one dead, and in compassion lifted him up and carried him
in his arms, even as the good shepherd doth his sheep. And then learning
from him how he had beheld the said vision, St. Francis commanded him to
tell it to no man, to wit, so long as he should live, and the boy, increasing daily
in the great grace of God and in devotion to St. Francis, became a valiant man
in the Order, and after the death of St. Francis revealed the said vision to the
friars.
CHAPTER XVIII
Of the wondrous Chapter that St. Francis held at St. Mary of the Angels, where
more than Five Thousand Friars were assembled
Francis, faithful servant of Christ, once held a Chapter-General at St. Mary
of the Angels, where more than five thousand friars were gathered together.
Now St. Dominic, head and founder of the Order of preaching friars, who was
then journeying from Burgundy to Rome, came thither, and hearing of the
congregation of the Chapter that St. Francis was holding in the plain of
St. Mary of the Angels, he went with seven friars of his Order to see. And
there was likewise at the said Chapter a cardinal who was most devoted to
St. Francis, the which cardinal he had foretold should one day become pope : l
even as it came to pass. This cardinal had journeyed diligently to Assisi from
1 Cardinal Hugolin, who became Gregory IX.
CHAPTER OF THE MATS 31
Perugia, where the papal court was, and every day he came to behold St. Francis
and his friars, and sometimes sang the mass, and sometimes preached the
sermon to the friars in Chapter ; and the said cardinal was filled with the
greatest joy and devotion when he came to visit that holy college. And
beholding the friars sitting on that plain, around St. Mary's, company by
company, here forty, there a hundred, there eighty together, all engaged in
discoursing of God, or at prayer, or in tears, or in works of charity, and all
so silent and so meek that no sound nor discord was heard, and marvelling
at so great and orderly a multitude, he said with great devotion and tears,
" Verily this is the camp and the army of the knights of God." In so mighty
a host was heard neither vain words nor jests, but wheresoever a company of
friars was assembled together, there they prayed, or said the ofHce, or bewailed
their sins, or the sins of their benefactors, or discoursed of the salvation of souls.
For shelter, they made them little wicker cots of willow and of rush matting,
divided into groups according to the friars of the divers provinces : and there-
fore that Chapter was called the Chapter of the wicker cots or of the mats.
Their couch was the bare earth, with a little straw for some : their pillows
were blocks of stone or of wood. For which cause so great was the devotion
of whosoever heard or saw them, so great the fame of their sanctity, that many
counts and barons, and knights and other noblemen, and many priests likewise,
and cardinals and bishops, and abbots and other clerks, came from the papal court,
which then was at Perugia, and from the vale of Spoleto, to behold that great
assembly, so holy and so humble, and so many saintly men together, the like
whereof the world had never known before. And chiefly they came to behold
the head and most holy father of that saintly folk, who had snatched so fair a
prey from the world, and had gathered together so fair and devout a flock to
follow the footprints of the true Shepherd, Jesus Christ. The Chapter-General
then being assembled together, St. Francis, holy father of all and general
minister, expounded the word of God in fervour of spirit and preached unto
them in a loud voice whatsoever the Holy Spirit put into his mouth. And
for the text of his sermon he took these words, " My children, great things
have we promised unto God ; things exceeding great hath God promised
unto us, if we observe those we have promised unto Him ; and of a surety do
we await those things promised unto us. Brief is the joy of this world ; the
pain that cometh hereafter is everlasting ; small is the pain of this life ; but
the glory of the life to come is infinite." And on these words he preached
most devoutly, comforting the friars and moving them to obedience and to
32 CHAPTER OF THE MATS
reverence of holy mother church, to brotherly love and to pray to God for
all men, to be patient under the adversities of this world, temperate in pros-
perity, observant of purity and angelic chastity, to live in peace and concord
with God and with men and with their own conscience, and in the love
and practice of most holy poverty. And then he spake and said, " I command
you by the merit of holy obedience, all you that are here assembled, that none
of you have care nor solicitude for what he shall eat nor what he shall drink,
nor for aught necessary for the body, but give ye heed solely to prayer and
to the praise of God : lay upon Him all solicitude for your body, for He hath
special care of you." And all and sundry received this commandment with
glad hearts and with joyful countenances : and the sermon of St. Francis
being ended, all prostrated themselves in prayer. Whereat St. Dominic, who
was present at all these things, marvelled mightily at the commandment of
St. Francis and deemed it rash ; for he knew not how so great a multitude
could be governed while taking no thought or care for the things necessary
to the body. But the chief Shepherd, Christ the blessed, being willed to
show what care He hath for His sheep and His singular love for His poor
ones, anon moved the hearts of the people of Perugia, of Spoleto, of Foligno,
of Spello, and of Assisi, and of the other cities round about, to bring where-
withal to eat and to drink to that holy congregation. And lo, there came
quickly from the aforesaid cities, men with sumpter mules and horses and
carts, loaded with bread and wine, with beans and cheese and other good
things to eat, according to the needs of Christ's poor ones. Besides this they
brought napery and pitchers, and bowls and glasses, and other vessels needful
for so great a multitude ; and blessed was he that could bring the heaviest load
or serve most diligently, so that knights and barons also and other noblemen,
who had come to look on, served them with great humility and devotion.
Wherefore St. Dominic, beholding all these things and knowing of a truth that
divine providence wrought in them, humbly owned that he had falsely judged
St. Francis of rashness, and drawing nigh to him knelt down and humbly
confessed his fault, and added, " Verily, God hath especial care of these His
poor little ones, and I knew it not : henceforth I promise to observe holy
gospel poverty, and in God's name do curse all the friars of my Order that
shall dare to possess things of their own." And St. Dominic was much
edified by the faith of the most holy St. Francis, and by the obedience and
poverty of so great and well ordered an assembly, and by the divine providence
and the rich abundance of all good things. Now in that same Chapter it was
ST. FRANCIS AT RIETI 33
told St. Francis that many friars were wearing a breastplate of iron ' next
their skins, and iron rings, whereby many grew sick even unto death and were
hindered in their prayers. Whereat St. Francis, as a wise father, commanded
by holy obedience that whosoever had these breastplates or iron rings should
remove them and lay them before him, and thus did they ; and there were
numbered full five hundred breastplates, and many more rings, either for
the arm or for the loins, so that they made a great heap ; and St. Francis bade
them be left there. After the Chapter was ended St. Francis heartened them
all to good works, and taught them how they should escape without sin from
this wicked world ; then dismissed them with God's blessing and his own to
their provinces, all consoled with spiritual joy.
CHAPTER XIX
How the Vineyard of the Parish Priest of Rieti, in whose house St. Francis prayed, was
stripped of its grapes by reason of the multitude of people that came to see him ;
and how that Vineyard brought forth miraculously more wine than ever before,
according to the promise of St. Francis. And how God revealed to St. Francis
that Paradise should be his portion when he departed this life
St. Francis, being on a time sorely afflicted in his eyes, was invited by a letter
from Cardinal Hugolin, protector of the Order, to come to Rieti, where
excellent physicians for the eyes then dwelt, for he loved him tenderly. When
St. Francis received the cardinal's letter he went first to St. Damian's, where
St. Clare, the most devout spouse of Christ was, to give her some consolation,
and thence go his way to the cardinal at Rieti. And the night after he came
thither his eyes worsened so that he saw no light at all. Wherefore, being
unable to depart, St. Clare made him a little cell of reeds wherein he might the
1 Cuoretto. The sense of this word is doubtful. A note to Cesari's text interprets " a kind of
metal cilice in the form of a heart." The Upton fathers render "leather bands with sharp points" ;
Cardinal Manning has "small hearts of iron." Prof. Arnold in his admirable translation gives "shirts
of mail." A shirt of mail was, however, an expensive harness in the Middle Ages, and a gathering
of mendicant friars, 500 of whom were possessed of shirts of mail, is hardly credible. Petrocchi,
Nuova diz. universale, interprets, specie di cilicio, "a kind of cilice," and Johann Jòrgensen, the
Danish translator, has Bodsskjorte, "penitential shirt." A reference to the Latin original gives
loricam, and since a well-known eleventh-century Italian hermit, S. Domenico lorato, was thus
called by reason of the iron cuirass he wore next his skin, I have small doubt that cuoretto is equi-
valent to plastron de cceur, the small breastplate to protect the heart in common use in the Middle
Ages. The friars could easily have begged old breastplates for penitential purposes.
E
34 ST. FRANCIS AT RIETI
better find repose. But St. Francis, what with the pain of his eyes and what
with the multitude of mice that tormented him, could not rest a moment
night or day. And after enduring that pain and tribulation many days, he
began to bethink him and to understand that this was a divine scourge for his
sins ; and he began to thank God with all his heart and with his mouth, and
then crying with a loud voice, said, " My Lord, worthy am I of all this and
far worse. My Lord Jesus Christ, good Shepherd, that in Thy mercy hast
laid upon us sinners divers corporeal pains and anguish, grant to me, Thy little
sheep, such virtue and grace that for no sickness or anguish or suffering I may
depart from Thee." And as he prayed there came to him a voice from heaven,
saying, "Francis, answer Me : If all the earth were gold, and all the sea and
fountains and rivers were balm, and all the mountains and hills and rocks
were precious stones, and thou shouldst find another treasure as much nobler than
these things as gold is nobler than clay, and balm than water, and precious
stones than mountains and rocks, and if that nobler treasure were given thee
for thine infirmity, oughtest thou not to be right glad and right joyful ? "
St. Francis answered, " Lord, I am unworthy of so precious a treasure." And
the voice of God said to him, " Rejoice, Francis, for that is the treasure of
life eternal, which I have laid up for thee, and from this hour forth I do
invest thee therewith : and this sickness and affliction is a pledge of that blessed
treasure." Then St. Francis with exceeding great joy called his companion
and said, " Go we to the cardinal." And first consoling St. Clare with holy
words and humbly taking leave of her, he went his way towards Rieti. And
when he drew nigh to the city, so great a multitude of people came forth to
meet him that he would not enter therein, but went to a church that was
perchance two miles distant therefrom. When the citizens heard that he was
at the said church, they ran thither to behold him in such numbers that the
vineyard of the said church was utterly despoiled, and all the grapes were
plucked : whereat the priest, sorely grieved in his heart, repented that he had
received St. Francis in his church. Now that priest's thoughts being revealed
by God to St. Francis, he called him aside and said to him, " Dearest father,
how many measures of wine doth this vineyard yield thee a year when the
yield is highest ? " He answered, " Twelve measures." Says St. Francis,
" Prithee, father, suffer me patiently to sojourn here yet a few days, for I find
much repose here ; and for the love of God and of me, poor little one, let
every man gather grapes from thy vineyard, and I promise thee, in the name
of my Lord Jesus Christ, that every year thy vineyard shall yeild thee twenty
A WONDROUS VISION 35
measures of wine." And St. Francis tarried there because of the great harvest
of souls manifestly gathered from the folk that came thither ; whereof many
departed inebriated with divine love and forsook the world. The priest had
faith in the promise of St. Francis, and surrendered the vineyard freely to those
that came thither : and the vineyard was all wasted and stripped, so that scarce
a bunch of grapes remained. Marvellous to tell, the vintage season comes,
and lo, the priest gathers the few bunches that were left and casts them into
the wine-press and treads them, and, according to the promise of St. Francis,
he harvested twenty measures of excellent wine. In this miracle was manifestly
seen that since by the merits of St. Francis the vineyard, stripped of its grapes,
gave forth abundance of wine, so Christian folk, barren of virtue through sin,
ofttimes abounded in good fruit of penitence through the merits and teaching
of St. Francis.
CHAPTER XX
Touching a most beautiful Vision that a young Friar saw, who so hated his habit that
he was minded to cast it off and forsake the Order
A youth of very noble birth and gently nurtured entered the Order of St.
Francis ; and after some days, at the instigation of the devil, began to hold the
habit he wore in such abomination that it seemed to him of vilest sackcloth.
The sleeves thereof he held in horror ; he hated the cowl, and the length and
coarseness thereof seemed to him an intolerable burden. And his dislike of
the Order increasing also, he finally determined to quit the habit and return to
the world. Now he was already wonted, even as he had been taught by his
master, to kneel down with great reverence and draw off his cowl and cross his
arms on his breast and prostrate himself whensoever he passed before the altar of
the friary, where the body of Christ was reserved. Now it befell on the night
when he was minded to depart and leave the Order, that it behoved him to
pass before the altar : and passing there he knelt down as was his wont and did
reverence. And suddenly he was rapt in spirit, and a wondrous vision was
shown him by God ; for he beheld, as 'twere, a countless multitude of saints
pass before him, after the manner of a procession, two by two, clad in most
fair and precious raiment ; and the countenances and hands of them shone like
the sun ; and they paced to the chants and music of angels. And amid these
saints were two more nobly arrayed and adorned than all the others ; and they
2,6 A JVONDROUS VISION
were encompassed with such brightness that he who beheld them was filled
with great amaze ; and well-nigh at the end of the procession he beheld one
adorned so gloriously that he seemed a new-made knight, more honoured than
the others. This youth, beholding the said vision, marvelled greatly, and knew
not what that procession betokened, yet dared not ask, and remained dazed
with the sweetness thereof. And, nevertheless, when all the procession was
passed, he took courage and ran after the last among them, and asked, saying,
" O beloved, prithee of your courtesy tell me who be they so marvellously arrayed
that walk in this venerable procession ? " They answered, " Know, my son,
that we are all friars minor, who now are coming from the glory of paradise."
Then asked he thus, " Who be those two that shine more brightly than the
others ? " They answered, " Those are St. Francis and St. Anthony ; and he the
last of all whom thou sawest thus honoured is a holy friar that newly died, whom
we are leading in triumph to the glory of paradise, for that he hath fought valiantly
against temptation and persevered unto the end ; and these fair garments of
fine cloth we wear, are given to us by God in lieu of the coarse tunics we wore
in the Order ; and the glorious brightness that thou beholdest is given to us by
God for the humility and patience, and for the holy poverty and obedience and
chastity we kept even to the last. Therefore, my son, be it not hard to thee
to wear the sackcloth of the Order, that is so fruitful, because, if clothed in
the sackcloth of St. Francis thou for love of Christ despise the world and
mortify thy flesh and valiantly fight against the devil, thou, with us, shalt have
a like raiment and exceeding brightness of glory." These words said, the
youth returned to himself, and heartened by this vision, cast away from him all
temptation, and confessed his fault before the warden and the friars ; and
thenceforth he desired the bitterness of penitence and the coarseness of the
habit, and ended his life in the Order in great sanctity.
CHAPTER XXI
Of the Most Holy Miracle that St. Francis wrought when he Converted the
fierce Wolf of Gubbio
In the days when St. Francis abode in the city of Gubbio, a huge
wolf, terrible and fierce, appeared in the neighbourhood, and not only
devoured animals but men also ; in such wise that all the citizens went
THE WOLF OF GUBBIO 37
in great fear of their lives, because ofttimes the wolf came close to the city.
And when they went abroad, all men armed themselves as were they going
forth to battle ; and even so, none who chanced on the wolf alone could
defend himself; and at last it came to such a pass that for fear of this
wolf no man durst leave the city walls. Wherefore St. Francis had great
compassion for the men of that city, and purposed to issue forth against
that wolf, albeit the citizens, with one accord, counselled him not to go.
But he, making the sign of holy cross, and putting all his trust in God, set
forth from the city with his companions ; but they, fearing to go farther,
St. Francis went his way alone towards the place where the wolf was.
And lo ! the said wolf, in the sight of much folk that had come to behold
the miracle, leapt towards St. Francis with gaping jaws ; and St. Francis,
drawing nigh, made to him the sign of most holy cross and called him,
speaking thus, "Come hither, brother wolf; I command thee in the name of
Christ that thou do hurt neither to me nor to any man." Marvellous to tell !
no sooner had St. Francis made the sign of holy cross than the terrible
wolf closed his jaws and stayed his course ; no sooner was the command
uttered than he came, gentle as a lamb, and laid himself at the feet of St.
Francis. Then St. Francis speaks to him thus, " Brother wolf, thou workest
much evil in these parts, and hast wrought grievous ill, destroying and slaying
God's creatures without His leave ; and not only hast thou slain and devoured
the beasts of the field, but thou hast dared to destroy and slay men made
in the image of God ; wherefore thou art worthy of the gallows as a most
wicked thief and murderer : all folk cry out and murmur against thee, and
all this city is at enmity with thee. But, brother wolf, fain would I make
peace with them and thee, so that thou injure them no more ; and they
shall forgive thee all thy past offences, and neither man nor dog shall
pursue thee more." Now when St. Francis had spoken these words, the
wolf, moving his body and his tail and his ears, and bowing his head, made
signs that he accepted what had been said, and would abide thereby. Then
said St. Francis, " Brother wolf, since it pleaseth thee to make and observe
this peace, I promise to obtain for thee, so long as thou livest, a continual
sustenance from the men of this city, so that thou shalt no more suffer
hunger, for well I ween that thou hast wrought all this evil to satisfy
thy hunger. But after I have won this favour for thee, brother wolf, I
desire that thou promise me to do hurt neither to man nor beast. Dost
thou promise me this ? " And the wolf bowed his head and gave clear
38
THE PTOLF OF GUBBIO
token that he promised these things. And St. Francis said, " Brother wolf,
I desire that thou pledge thy faith to me to keep this promise, that I
may have full trust in thee." And when St. Francis held forth his hand
to receive this pledge, the wolf lifted up his right paw and gently laid
it in the hand of St. Francis, giving him thereby such token of good faith
as he could. Then said St. Francis, " Brother wolf, I command thee in the
name of Jesus Christ to come with me ; fear naught, and we will go and
confirm this peace in the name of God." And the wolf, obedient, set
forth by his side even as a pet lamb ; wherefore, when the men of the city
beheld this, they marvelled greatly. And anon this miracle was noised
about the whole city, and all folk, great and small, men and women, old
and young, flocked to the market-place to see the wolf with St. Francis.
And when all the people were gathered together there, St. Francis stood
forth and preached to them, saying, among other things, how that for their
sins God had suffered such calamities to befall them, and how much more
perilous were the flames of hell which the damned must endure everlastingly
than was the ravening of a wolf that could only slay the body ; and how
much more to be feared were the jaws of hell, since that for fear of the
mouth of a small beast such multitudes went in fear and trembling. " Turn
ye, then, dearest children, to God, and do fitting penance for your sins, and
so shall God free you from the wolf in this world and from eternal fire in
the world to come." And having made an end of his sermon, St. Francis
said, " Hark ye, my brethren, brother wolf, here before you, hath promised
and pledged his faith to me never to injure you in anything whatsoever, if
you will promise to provide him daily sustenance ; and here stand I, a
bondsman for him, that he will steadfastly observe this pact of peace."
Then the people with one voice promised to feed him all his days.
And St. Francis, before all the people, said to the wolf, " And thou, brother
wolf, dost promise to observe the conditions of this peace before all this
people, and that thou wilt injure neither man nor beast nor any living
creature ? " And the wolf knelt down and bowed his head, and with
gentle movements of tail and body and ears, showed by all possible
tokens his will to observe every pact of peace. Says St. Francis, " I
desire, brother wolf, that even as thou didst pledge thy faith to me without
the city gates to hold fast to thy promise, so here, before all this people, thou
shalt renew thy pledge, and promise thou wilt never play me, thy bondsman,
false." Then the wolf, lifting up his right paw, placed it in the hand of
ST. FRANCIS AND THE DO FES 39
St. Francis. Whereat, what with this act and the others aforesaid, there
was such marvel and rejoicing among all the people — not only at the
strangeness of the miracle, but because of the peace made with the wolf —
that they all began to cry aloud to heaven, praising and blessing God, who
had sent St. Francis to them, by whose merits they had been freed from
the cruel wolf. And the said wolf lived two years in Gubbio, and was
wont to enter like a tame creature into the houses from door to door,
doing hurt to no one and none doing hurt to him. And he was kindly fed
by the people ; and as he went about the city never a dog barked at him.
At last, after two years, brother wolf died of old age ; whereat the citizens
grieved much, for when they beheld him going thus tamely about the
city, they remembered better the virtues and holiness of St. Francis.
CHAPTER XXII
How St. Francis tamed the wild Turtle Doves
A certain youth one day, having snared many turtle doves, was taking them
to market when St. Francis met him. And St. Francis, who ever had singular
compassion for gentle creatures, gazed upon those doves with a pitying eye,
and said to the youth, " O good youth, prithee give them to me, lest birds
so gentle, that chaste, humble, and faithful souls are compared to them in
the scriptures, fall into the hands of cruel men who would kill them."
Straightway the youth, inspired by God, gave them all to St. Francis, who
received them into his bosom and began to speak sweetly to them, " O my
little sisters, ye simple doves, innocent and chaste, wherefore suffer yourselves
to be caught ? Now will I rescue you from death, and make nests for you,
that ye may be fruitful and multiply, according to the commandments of
our Creator." And St. Francis went and made nests for them all ; and
they took to the nests and began to lay eggs and rear their young before the
eyes of the friars : and thus they abode tamely and grew familiar with St.
Francis and the other friars, as if they had been chickens ever fed by their
hands : nor did they depart until St. Francis gave them leave with his
blessing. And he said to the youth that had given them to him, " Son,
thou shalt yet be a friar in this Order and serve Jesus Christ in grace." And
so it befell, for the said youth became a friar and lived in the Order with
great holiness.
4o A SINFUL FRIAR DELIVERED
CHAPTER XXIII
How St. Francis delivered a sinful Friar from the power of the Devil
It fell out on a time as St. Francis was at prayer in the friary of the
Porziuncula, that he beheld by divine revelation the whole house surrounded
and besieged by devils in the similitude of a mighty army. But they could
not enter within because those friars were of such holiness that no evil
spirit could come nigh them. And as the enemy lay in wait, one of the
friars on a day quarrelled with another, and thought in his heart how he
might accuse him and be avenged. Wherefore, while he nursed this evil
thought, the devil saw the way open and entered into the friary and sat on
the friar's shoulder. But the compassionate and vigilant shepherd that ever
watched over his flock, seeing the wolf had entered the fold to devour his
lamb, let that friar be called to him, and commanded him straightway to
reveal the venom of hatred he had conceived towards his neighbour, whereby
he had fallen into the power of the enemy of mankind. The friar, affrighted
when he perceived that the holy father had thus read his heart, revealed
all the venom and malice he had borne in his breast, and confessed his sin
and humbly craved mercy and penance. This done, and his penance being
accepted, he was assoiled of his sin, and straightway the devil departed in
the presence of St. Francis. And the friar, thus delivered from the power
of the cruel fiend through the loving-kindness of the good shepherd, gave
thanks to God, and returned chastened and admonished to the fold of the
holy pastor, and ever after lived in great sanctity.
CHAPTER XXIV
How St. Francis converted the Soldan of Babylon to the true Faith
St. Francis, stirred by zeal for the faith of Christ and by the desire of
martyrdom, voyaged on a time over the seas with twelve of his holiest
companions, to fare straight to the Soldan of Babylon ; * and when they came
to the land of the Saracens, where the passes were guarded by certain men
1 Old Cairo.
SOLD AN OF BABYLON 41
so cruel that never a Christian who journeyed that way escaped death at
their hands, by the grace of God they escaped, and were not slain ; but
seized and beaten, they were led in bonds before the Soldan. And standing
before him, St. Francis, taught by the Holy Ghost, preached the faith of
Christ so divinely that for his faith's sake he even would have entered the
fire. Whereat the Soldan began to feel great devotion towards him, as much
for the constancy of his faith as for his contempt of the world (for albeit
he was very poor, he would accept no gift), and also for the fervour of
martyrdom he beheld in him. From that time forth the Soldan heard him
gladly, and entreated him many times to come back, granting to him and
to his companions freedom to preach wheresoever it might please them ; and
he gave them also a token, so that no man should do them hurt. Having
therefore received this licence, St. Francis sent forth those chosen companions,
two by two, in divers parts, to preach the faith of Christ to the Saracens.
And himself, with one of them, chose a way, and journeying on he came to
an inn to rest. And therein was a woman, most fair in body but foul in
soul, who, accursed one, did tempt him to sin. And St. Francis, saying he
consented thereto, she led him into a chamber. Said St. Francis, " Come
with me." And he led her to a fierce fire that was kindled in that chamber,
and in fervour of spirit stripped himself naked and cast himself beside that
fire on the burning hearth ; and he invited her to go and strip and lie with
him on that bed, downy and fair. And when St. Francis had lain thus for
a great space, with a joyous face, being neither burned nor even singed, that
woman, affrighted and pierced to the heart, not only repented of her sin
and of her evil intent, but likewise was wholly converted to the faith of
Christ ; and she waxed so in holiness that many souls were saved through
her in those lands.
At last, when St. Francis saw he could gather no more fruit in those
parts, he prepared by divine admonition to return to the faithful with all
his companions ; and having assembled them together, he went back to the
Soldan and took leave of him. Then said the Soldan to him, " Friar Francis,
fain would I convert me to the faith of Christ, but I fear to do so now, for
if this people heard thereof they would surely slay thee and me and all thy
companions ; and forasmuch as thou canst yet work much good, and as I
have certain affairs of great moment to despatch, I will not be the cause of
thy death and of mine. But teach me how I may be saved ; lo, I am ready
to do whatsoever thou layest upon me." Then said St. Francis, " My lord,
42 THE LEPER
now must I depart from you, but after I am returned to mine own country
and by the grace of God have ascended to heaven after my death, as it
may please God, I will send thee two of my friars, at whose hands thou shalt
receive the holy baptism of Christ and be saved, even as my Lord Jesus
Christ hath revealed to me. And do thou meanwhile get thee free from
all hindrance, so that when the grace of God shall come upon thee thou
shalt find thyself well disposed to faith and devotion." Thus he promised
and thus he did. This said, St. Francis returned with that venerable college
of his holy companions, and after some years he gave up his soul to God
by the death of the body. And the Soldan, being fallen sick, awaits the
promise of St. Francis, and stations guards at certain of the passes, and
commands them that if two friars appear in the habit of St. Francis, they
shall straightway be led before him. At that very hour St. Francis appeared
to two friars, and bade them tarry not, but hasten to the Soldan and compass
his salvation, according as he had promised. And anon the friars set forth,
and having crossed the pass, were led by the said guards before the Soldan.
And when the Soldan beheld them he was filled with great joy, and said,
" Now do I truly perceive that God hath sent his servants to me for my
salvation, according to the promise St. Francis made to me by divine
inspiration." And when he had received instruction from those friars in the
faith of Christ and holy baptism, he, being born again in Christ, died of that
sickness, and his soul was saved through the merits and the prayers of St.
Francis.
CHAPTER XXV
How St. Francis miraculously healed a Leper ; body and soul, and what that
soul said to him on her way to Heaven
St. Francis, true disciple of Christ, while he lived in this miserable life, strove
with all his might to follow Christ, the perfect Master ; wherefore it befell
many times, by divine power, that the souls of those, whose bodies he healed,
were also healed at the selfsame hour, even as we read of Christ. And he
not only served lepers gladly, but had also ordained that the friars of his Order,
as they went about the world, should serve lepers for love of Christ, who for
our sakes was willing to be accounted a leper. Now it befell on a time, in
a friary nigh unto where St. Francis then was dwelling, that the friars were
THE LEPER 43
serving lepers and other sick folk in a lazar-house, among whom was a leper,
so froward, so intolerable, and so insolent, that all believed of a surety he
was possessed of the devil ; and so in sooth it was, for he reviled so shamefully
with words, and belaboured whosoever was tending him, and, what is worse,
did foully blaspheme the blessed Christ and His most holy Mother the Virgin
Mary, so that in no wise could one be found willing or able to serve him.
And albeit the friars strove to bear patiently the injuries and insults heaped
upon themselves, in order to increase the merit of their patience, nevertheless,
their consciences were unable to endure those uttered against the Christ and
His Mother : so they resolved to forsake the said leper, but would not until
they had signified all things in due order to St. Francis, who was then dwelling
in a friary hard by. And when they had signified these things to him, St.
Francis came to this perverse leper, and drawing nigh, gave him salutation,
saying, " God give thee peace, my dearest brother." The leper answers,
" What peace can I have from God, who hath taken peace from me and all
good things, and hath made me all rotten and stinking ? " And St. Francis
said, " My son, have patience, for the infirmities of the body are given to us
by God in this world for the salvation of souls ; inasmuch as they are of great
merit when they are endured patiently." The sick man answers, " And how
can I bear patiently this continual pain that afflicts me day and night ? And
not only am I afflicted by my sickness, but the friars thou gavest to serve me
do even worse, and serve me not as they ought." Then St. Francis, knowing
by divine revelation that this leper was possessed of the evil spirit, went aside
and betook himself to prayer, and devoutly prayed God for him. His prayer
ended, he returns to the leper and bespeaks him thus, " My son, I will serve
thee, even I, since thou art not content with the others." And the leper
answers, " So be it ; but what canst thou do more than the others ? " St.
Francis answers, " Whatsoever thou wilt, that will I do." Says the leper,
" I will that thou wash me all over, for I stink so foully that I cannot abide
myself." Then St. Francis made quickly water boil, with many sweet-smelling
herbs therein ; then did strip the leper and began to wash him with his own
hands, while another friar poured water over him. And by miracle divine,
wherever St. Francis touched him with his holy hands the leprosy departed,
and the flesh became perfectly whole. And even as the flesh began to heal,
the soul began to heal also ; whereupon the leper, seeing the leprosy on the
way to leave him, began to have great compunction and repentance for his
sins ; and bitterly he began to weep ; so that while the body was outwardly
44 CONVERSION OF
cleansed of the leprosy by the washing with water, the soul within was cleansed
of sin by amendment and tears. And being wholly healed, as well in body
as in soul, he humbly confessed his sins, and weeping, said with a loud voice,
" Woe unto me, who am worthy of hell for the insults and injuries I have
put upon the friars in word and deed, and for my perversity and blasphemies
against God." Wherefore a fortnight long he persevered in bitter weeping
for his sins and in craving mercy of God, confessing himself unto the priest
with a whole heart. And when St. Francis beheld so clear a miracle that
God had wrought by his hands, he gave thanks to God, and departing thence,
journeyed into a very far country ; for through humility he desired to flee
all vainglory, and in all his works sought the honour and glory of God, and
not his own. Then as it pleased God, the said leper, being healed in body
and soul, fell sick of another infirmity a fortnight after his repentance ; and,
armed with the sacraments of the church, died a holy death. And his soul,
on her way to paradise, appeared in the air to St. Francis, who was at prayer
in a wood, and said to him, " Knowest thou me ? " " Who art thou ? " said
St. Francis. " I am the leper whom the blessed Christ healed through thy
merits, and this day am going to life everlasting ; wherefore I render thanks
to God and to thee. Blessed be thy soul and thy body ; blessed thy holy
words and deeds, because through thee many souls shall be saved in the world :
and know that not a day passeth in the world but that the holy angels and
the other saints give thanks to God for the holy fruits that thou and thy
Order bring forth in divers parts of the world. Therefore be comforted, and
give thanks to God and abide with His blessing." These words said, the soul
passed into heaven, and St. Francis remained much comforted.
CHAPTER XXVI
How St. Francis converted three murderous robbers that became Friars ; and of
the most noble Vision that one of them beheld who was a most holy Friar
St. Francis on a time was journeying through the wilderness of Borgo San
Sepolcro, and as he passed by a stronghold, called Monte Casale, a noble and
delicate youth came to him and said, " Father, fain would I become one of
your friars." St. Francis answers, " Son, thou art but a delicate youth and
of noble birth, peradventure thou couldst not endure our poverty and our
THREE ROBBERS 45
hardships." And the youth said, " Father, are ye not men as I am ? Since
ye then endure these things, even so can I by the grace of Jesus Christ." St.
Francis, well pleased with this answer, gave him his blessing, and anon re-
ceived him into the Order, and gave him for name Friar Angel. And this
youth waxed so in grace that short time after, St. Francis made him warden
of the friary called of Monte Casale. Now in those days three famous robbers
who infested that country and wrought much evil therein, came to the said
friary and besought the said warden, Friar Angel, to give them food to eat ;
and the warden answered them in this wise, rebuking them harshly, " Ye
robbers and cruel manslayers, are ye not ashamed to steal the fruit of others'
labours, but, frontless and insolent, would seek likewise to devour the alms
bestowed on God's servants ? Ye are not worthy even to walk this earth,
for ye reverence neither man nor the God that created you ; get ye gone,
then, and be seen here no more." Whereat they, perturbed, departed in great
fury. And lo, St. Francis appeared outside the friary, his wallet filled with
bread, and carrying a small vessel of wine, that he and his companion had
begged. And when the warden related to him how he had driven the robbers
away, St. Francis chid him severely, saying he had borne himself cruelly, since
sinners were better drawn to God by gentleness than by cruel reproof.
" Wherefore our Master, Jesus Christ, whose gospel we have promised to
observe, saith, that the whole need not a physician, but they that are sick,
and that He had not come to call the just but sinners to repentance ; and
therefore many times He ate with them. Forasmuch as thou hast done
contrary to charity and contrary to Christ's holy gospel, I command thee by
holy obedience that thou straightway take this wallet of bread that I have
begged and this vessel of wine, and go diligently after them over hill and
valley until thou find them, and give them all this bread and wine from me :
then kneel thee down before them and confess humbly thy fault of cruelty,
and entreat them for my sake to work evil no more, but to fear God and
offend Him no more ; and say that if they will do this I promise to provide
for all their needs, and give them continually enough to eat and to drink.
And when thou hast done this, return humbly hither." While the said
warden went to do this bidding, St. Francis betook himself to prayer, and
besought God that He would soften the hearts of those robbers and convert
them to repentance. The obedient warden overtakes them and gives them
the bread and wine, and does and says what St. Francis had commanded him.
And it pleased God that those robbers, as they ate of the alms of St. Francis,
46
CONVERSION OF
began to say one to another, " Woe unto us, wretched and hapless ! what
hard torments await us in hell ! For we go about not only robbing our
neighbours, beating and wounding them, but do slay them likewise ; and so
many evil deeds and wicked works notwithstanding, we have neither remorse
of conscience nor fear of God ; and lo, this holy friar hath come to us, and
for a few words wherewith he justly rebuked our wickedness, hath humbly
confessed to us his fault ; and moreover, hath brought us bread and wine and
promise so bounteous from the holy father : verily these are God's holy friars
that merit His paradise, and we are children of eternal wrath that deserve
the pains of hell, and each day do increase our doom ; yea, we know not
whether for the sins we have committed to this day we may return to the
mercy of God." These and the like words being spoken by one of them,
the others said, " Of a surety thou speakest sooth, but look ye, what must we
do ? " " Go we," said the one, " to St. Francis, and if he give us hope that we
may find mercy from God for our sins, let us do whatsoever he command us,
and so may we deliver our souls from the torments of hell." Now this
counsel was pleasing to the others, and thus all three being in accord, they
came in haste to St. Francis and spake to him thus : " Father, we for our many
wicked sins believe we cannot return to the mercy of God ; but if thou have
some hope that God in His mercy will receive us, lo, we are ready to do thy
bidding and to do penance with thee." Then St. Francis received them with
loving-kindness and comforted them with many ensamples, and made them
confident of God's mercy, promising he would surely obtain it for them from
God. He told them that the mercy of God was infinite, and that, according
to the gospel, even if our sins were infinite, His mercy was yet greater than
our sins ; and that the Apostle St. Paul hath said, " Christ the blessed came
into the world to save sinners." Hearing these words and the like teachings,
the said three robbers renounced the devil and all his works, and St. Francis
received them into the Order, and they began to do great penance. And two
of them lived but a brief space after their conversion and went to paradise ;
but the third lived on, and, pondering on his sins, gave himself up to do such
penance during fifteen unbroken years that, besides the common lenten fasts
which he kept with the other friars, he fasted three days of the week on
bread and water ; he went ever barefoot, with naught on his back but a single
tunic, nor ever slept after matins. In the meantime St. Francis passed from
this miserable life ; and this friar through many years continued his penance,
when lo, one night after matins, so sore a temptation to sleep came upon him,
THREE ROBBERS 47
that in no wise could he resist it, nor watch as he was wont to do. At
length, unable to overcome his drowsiness, or to pray, he lay on his bed to
sleep. No sooner had he laid down his head than he was rapt and led in
spirit to the top of a very high mountain over a steep place, and on this side
and on that were broken and jagged rocks and monstrous crags that jutted
forth from the rocks ; wherefore this steep place was frightful to behold.
And the angel that was leading this friar pushed him and flung him down
that steep place ; and as he fell he was dashed from rock to rock and from
crag to crag until he fell to the bottom of the abyss, his limbs all broken and
shattered to pieces, according as it seemed to him. And lying thus mangled
on the ground, he that led him said, " Rise up, for it behoves thee to go a
yet greater journey." The friar answerered, " Methinks thou art a most
foolish and cruel man ; for thou seest I am well-nigh dead of my fall, which
has dashed me to pieces, and thou yet biddest me rise up." And the angel
drew nigh and, touching him, made all his members whole again and healed
his wounds. And then he showed him a great plain, full of sharp and pointed
stones and thorns and briars, and told him he must needs run across all this
plain and pass over it with naked feet until he came to the end ; there he
would behold a fiery furnace wherein he must enter. And the friar having
passed over all the plain with great pain and anguish, the angel said to him,
" Enter yon furnace, for this it behoves thee now to do." He answers,
" Alas ! how cruel a guide art thou, that seest I am nigh unto death, because
of this horrible plain ; and now for repose thou biddest me enter this fiery
furnace." And as he gazed, he beheld many devils around the furnace with
iron forks in their hands, wherewith, seeing him slow to enter, they thrust
him into the furnace. Having entered the furnace, he gazed around and
beheld one that had been his gossip, who was all a-burning ; and he asked
of him, " O hapless gossip, how earnest thou here ? " And he answered and
said, " Go a little farther and thou shalt find my wife, thy gossip ; she will tell
thee the cause of our damnation." And as the friar passed on, lo, the said
gossip appeared, all aflame and enclosed in a fiery measure of corn ; and he
asked her, saying, " O gossip, hapless and wretched, why art thou in so cruel
a torment ? " And she answered, " Because at the time of the great famine
that St. Francis had foretold, my husband and I gave false measure of corn
and wheat ; therefore do I burn in this measure." These words said, the
angel who was leading the friar thrust him out of the furnace and said to
him, " Make thee ready for a horrible journey thou hast to take." And he,
4«
CONVERSION OF
lamenting, said, " O guide most cruel, that hast no compassion on me, thou
seest I am well-nigh all burned in this furnace, and yet wouldst lead me on
a perilous and horrible journey." And the angel touched him and made him
whole and strong. Then he led him to a bridge, which could not be crossed
without great peril, for it was very frail and narrow and slippery and without
a rail at the sides ; and beneath it flowed a terrible river, filled with serpents
and dragons and scorpions, so that it gave forth a great stench. And the
angel said to him, " Pass over this bridge ; at any cost thou must pass over."
And the friar answers, " And how shall I cross without falling into this
perilous river ? " Says the angel, " Follow after me, and set thy foot where
thou seest me place mine ; so shalt thou pass over well." This friar passed
behind the angel as he had shown him, until he reached the middle of the
bridge, and as he stood thus on the crown of the bridge the angel flew away,
and departing from him, went to the top of a most high mountain far
away beyond the bridge. And the friar considered well the place whither the
angel had flown ; but, left without a guide and gazing below him, he beheld
those terrible beasts with their heads out of the water and with open jaws ready
to devour him if peradventure he should fall ; and he trembled so that in
no wise knew he what to do, nor what to say ; for he could neither turn back
nor go forward. Wherefore, beholding himself in such great tribulation, and
that he had no other refuge save in God, he stooped down and clasped the
bridge, and with his whole heart and in tears he commended himself to God,
and prayed that of His most holy mercy He would succour him. His prayer
ended, himseemed to put forth wings, whereat with great joy he waited until
they grew, that he might fly beyond the bridge whither the angel had flown.
But after a while, by the great desire he had to pass beyond this bridge, he set
himself to fly, and because his wings were not yet fully grown, he fell upon
the bridge and his wings dropped from him ; whereat he clasped the bridge
again, and commended himself as before to God. And his prayer ended, again
himseemed to put forth wings ; but, as before, he waited not until they had
fully grown, and setting himself to fly before the time, he fell again on the
bridge, and his wings dropped. Wherefore, seeing these things, and that he
had fallen, through his untimely haste to fly, he began to say within himself,
" Of a surety, if I put forth wings a third time, I will wait until they be so
great that I may fly without falling again." And pondering these things, lo,
himseemed yet a third time to put forth wings ; and waiting a great space,
until they were well grown, himseemed with the first and second and third
THREE ROBBERS 49
putting forth of wings that he had waited full a hundred and fifty years or
more. At length he lifted him up this third time, and with all his might
took wing and flew on high as far as the place whither the angel had flown.
And knocking at the door of the palace wherein the angel was, the doorkeeper
asked of him, " Who art thou that comest here ? " He answered, " I am a
friar minor." Says the doorkeeper, " Tarry a while, for I will bring St. Francis
hither, to see if he know thee." As he went his way to St. Francis, this friar
began to gaze on the marvellous walls of the palace ; and lo, these walls
appeared translucent and of such exceeding brightness that he beheld clearly
the choirs of the saints and all that was doing within. And standing thus
amazed at this vision, lo, St. Francis cometh, and Friar Bernard, and Friar
Giles ; and after these, so great a multitude of sainted men and women that
had followed the example of his life, that they seemed well-nigh countless ;
and St. Francis came forth and said to the doorkeeper, " Let him enter, for
he is one of my friars." And no sooner had he entered therein than he felt
such great consolation and such sweetness that he forgot all the tribulations
he had suffered, even as if they had not been. And then St. Francis led him
in and showed him many marvellous things, and thus bespake him : " Son,
needs must thou return to the world and abide there seven days, wherein thou
shalt make thee ready diligently and with great devotion ; for after these
seven days I will come for thee, and then shalt thou enter with me this abode
of the blessed." Now St. Francis was arrayed in a wondrous garment,
adorned with fairest stars, and his five stigmas were like unto five beauteous
stars, of such exceeding splendour that the whole palace was illumined with
their beams. And Friar Bernard's head was crowned with fairest stars, and
Friar Giles was aureoled with wondrous light ; and many other friars he
knew among them that in the world he had never seen. Then taking leave
of St. Francis he returned, albeit with laggard steps, to the world again.
And when he awoke and returned to himself and came to his wits again,
the friars were chanting prime ; so that he had been in that vision but from
matins to prime, albeit it had seemed to him that he had remained therein
many years. And having related to the warden all this vision in due order,
he began, within seven days, to sicken of a fever ; and on the eighth day St.
Francis came for him, according to his promise, with a great multitude of
glorious saints, and led his soul to life everlasting in the realms of the blessed.
G
5o FRIAR PELLEGRINO
CHAPTER XXVII
How St. Francis converted two Scholars at Bologna that became Friars, and
then delivered one of them from a great Temptation
Once on a time when St. Francis came to the city of Bologna all the people of
the city ran forth to behold him, and so great was the press that the folk could
with great difficulty reach the market-place ; and the whole place being filled
with men and women and scholars, lo, St. Francis stood up on high in the
midst of them and began to preach what the Holy Ghost taught him. And
so wondrously he preached that he seemed to speak with the voice of an angel
rather than of a man ; his celestial words seemed to pierce the hearts of those
that heard them, even as sharp arrows, so that during his sermon a great
multitude of men and women were converted to repentance. Among whom
were two students of noble birth from the Marches of Ancona, the one named
Pellegrino, the other Rinieri : and being touched in their hearts by divine
inspiration through the said sermon, they came to St. Francis saying they
desired wholly to forsake the world and be numbered among his friars. Then
St. Francis, knowing by divine revelation that they were sent of God and
were to lead a holy life in the Order, and considering their great fervour,
received them joyfully, saying, " Thou, Pellegrino, keep the way of humility
in the Order, and do thou, Friar Rinieri, serve the friars ; " and thus it was :
for Friar Pellegrino would never go forth as a priest but as a lay brother,
albeit he was a great clerk and learned in the canon law. And by reason of
this humility he attained to great perfection of virtue ; in such wise that
Friar Bernard, first-born of St. Francis, said of him, that he was one of the
most perfect friars in this world. Finally, the said Friar Pellegrino passed
from his blessed life, full of virtue, and wrought many miracles before his
death and after. And the said Friar Rinieri, devoutly living in great holiness
and humility, faithfully served the friars, and was much beloved of St. Francis.
Being afterwards chosen minister of the province of the Marches of Ancona,
he ruled it a long time with great peace and discretion. After a while God
suffered a sore temptation to arise in his soul ; whereat, in anguish and
tribulation, he afflicted himself mightily with fastings and scourgings, with
tears and prayers, both day and night. Nevertheless, he could not banish
à^ftCNfiffiKflEUlGKa
FRIAR RI N IERI 51
that temptation, but ofttimes was in great despair because he deemed himself
forsaken by God. In this great despair he resolved, as a last remedy, to go to
St. Francis, thinking thus within himself : " If St. Francis meet me with a
kindly countenance, and show me affection, as he is wont to do, I believe that
God will yet have compassion on me : but if not it shall be a token that I am
forsaken of God." Thereupon he set forth and went to St. Francis, who at
that time lay grievously sick in the bishop's palace at Assisi ; and God revealed
to him all the manner of that temptation, and of the state of the said Friar
Rinieri, and his coming. And straightway St. Francis calls Friar Leo and
Friar Masseo, and says to them, " Go ye quickly and meet my most dear son,
Friar Rinieri, and embrace him for me and salute him, and say unto him that
among all the friars that are in the world, him I love with singular love."
They go forth and find Friar Rinieri by the way and embrace him, saying
unto him what St. Francis had charged them to say. Whereupon such great
consolation and sweetness filled his soul that he was well-nigh beside himself
with joy, and giving thanks to God with all his heart he journeyed on and
reached the place where St. Francis lay sick. And albeit St. Francis was
grievously sick, nevertheless, when he heard Friar Rinieri coming, he rose up
from his bed and went towards him and embraced him most sweetly and spake
to him thus, " Friar Rinieri, dearest son, thee I love above all the friars in this
world ; thee I love with singular love : " and these words said, he made the
sign of most holy cross on his brow and there did kiss him. Then he said to
him, " Son most dear, God hath suffered this sore temptation to befall thee for
thy great gain of merit : but if thou desire this gain no longer, have it not."
Marvellous to tell ! no sooner had St. Francis uttered these words than all
temptation departed from him, even as if he ne'er had felt it in his life : and
he remained fully comforted.
CHAPTER XXVIII
Of the Divine Ecstasy that came to Friar Bernard, whereby he remained from
morn to noon insensible to outward things
How large a measure of grace God oft bestowed on poor followers of the
gospel that forsook the world for love of Christ was shown forth in Friar
52 FRIAR "BERNARD
Bernard of Quintavalle, who, after having put on the habit of St. Francis, was
rapt many times in God through contemplation of celestial things. Among
others, it befell on a time that when he was in church hearing mass, and with
his whole mind lifted up to God, he became so absorbed and rapt in God that
he perceived not when the body of Christ was elevated, nor knelt down, nor
drew off his cowl as the other friars did : but without moving his eyes, stood
with fixed gaze, insensible to outward things from morn till noon. And after
noon, returning to himself, he went about the friary crying with a voice
of wonder, " O friars, O friars, O friars, there is no man in this country,
were he ever so great or so noble, but if he were promised a beautiful palace
filled with gold would not find it easy to carry a sack full of dung in order
to win that treasure so noble." To this celestial treasure, promised to those
that love God, the aforesaid Friar Bernard had his mind so lifted up that
for full fifteen years he ever went with his mind and his countenance raised
to heaven ; during which time he never satisfied his hunger at table, albeit
he ate a little of that which was placed before him : for he was wont to say
that perfect abstinence did not consist in foregoing that which a man did
not relish, but that true abstinence lay in using temperance in those things
that were of pleasant savour in the mouth ; and thereby he attained to such
degree of clearness and light of understanding that even great doctors had
recourse to him for the solution of the knottiest questions and of difficult
passages in the Scriptures, and he resolved all their difficulties. And foras-
much as his mind was wholly loosed and detached from earthly things, he,
like the swallows, soared high by contemplation : wherefore, sometimes
twenty days, sometimes thirty, he dwelt alone on the tops of the highest
mountains, contemplating divine things. For which cause Friar Giles was
wont to say of him, that on no other man was this gift bestowed as it was
on Friar Bernard ; to wit, that he should feed flying, as the swallows did.
And for this excellent grace that he had from God, St. Francis willingly and
oft spake with him, both day and night ; so that sometimes they were found
together in the wood, rapt in God, the whole night long, whither they had
both withdrawn to discourse of God.
FRIAR RUFFINO 53
CHAPTER XXIX
How the devil in the form of the Crucified appeared many times to Friar Ruffino and
told him he was losing the good he was practising because he was not of the elect.
Whereat St. Francis, knowing this by revelation from God, made Friar Ruffino
ware of the errors whereto he had given credence
Friar Ruffino, one of the noblest gentlemen of the city of Assisi, and the
companion of St. Francis, a man of great holiness, was once mightily assailed
and tempted in soul touching predestination, whereby he became full of
sadness and melancholy ; for the devil put it into his heart that he was damned,
and not among those predestined to eternal life, and that he was losing all his
work in the Order. And this temptation lasting many days, he, for very
shame, did not reveal it to St. Francis ; nevertheless he ceased not to pray nor
to observe the usual fasts : whereat the enemy began to heap trial upon trial
upon him, and over and above the battle within did likewise assail him out-
wardly with false visions. Wherefore he appeared to him once in the form
of the Crucified, and said to him, " O Friar Ruffino, wherefore afflict thyself
with penance and prayer, seeing thou art not among those predestined to life
eternal ? Believe me, for I know whom I have elected and predestined, and
heed not the son of Peter Bernadone if he tell thee contrary ; and moreover,
question him not concerning this matter, for neither he nor any man knoweth ;
none save Me, that am the Son of God : therefore believe that of a surety thou
art numbered among the damned ; and the son of Peter Bernadone, thy father,
and his father also are damned, and whosoever followeth him is beguiled."
These words said, Friar Ruffino began to be so overcast by the prince of dark-
ness that already he lost all the faith and love he had had for St. Francis, and
cared not to tell him aught of his condition. But that which Friar Ruffino
told not to the holy father was revealed to him by the Holy Spirit ; whereat
St. Francis, beholding in spirit the great peril of the said friar, sent Friar
Masseo for him ; to whom Friar Ruffino answered, murmuring, " What have
I to do with Friar Francis ? " Then Friar Masseo, filled with divine wisdom,
and knowing the wiles of the devil, said, " O Friar Ruffino, knowest thou not
that St. Francis is like unto an angel of God that hath illumined so many souls
in this world and from whom we have received the grace of God ? Therefore
54 TEMPTATION OF
I desire that thou, by all means, come with me to him, for clearly do I per-
ceive thou art beguiled by the devil." This said, lo, Friar Ruffino set forth
and went to St. Francis ; and St. Francis beholding him coming from afar,
began to cry, " O naughty Friar Ruffino, to whom hast thou given credence ? "
And when Friar Ruffino was come to him, St. Francis related all the tempta-
tion he had suffered from the devil in due order, both within and without, and
showed to him clearly that he who had appeared to him was the devil and not
Christ, and that in no wise should he consent unto his suggestions ; but that
" whenever the devil saith again to thee : ' Thou art damned,' answer him
thus : ' Open thy mouth and I will drop my dung therein.' And let this
be a token to thee that he is the devil and not Christ ; and when thou hast
thus answered he will forthwith flee from thee. By this token also shalt thou
know that it was the devil : for that he hardened thy heart against all good,
which thing is his own proper office ; but the blessed Christ never hardeneth
the heart of the man of faith, rather doth He soften it according as He
speaketh by the mouth of the prophet : ' I will take away the stony heart
out of their flesh, and will give them an heart of flesh.' " Then Friar Ruffino,
seeing that St. Francis had told him all the circumstance of his temptation,
was melted by his words, and began to weep bitterly and to give praise to St.
Francis, humbly confessing his fault in that he had hidden his temptation
from him. And thus he remained fully consoled and comforted by the holy
father's admonitions and wholly changed for the better. Then at the last, St.
Francis said to him, " Go, my son, confess thee, and cease not the exercise of
thy wonted prayers, and know of a surety that this temptation shall be of great
profit and consolation to thee, and in brief time shalt thou prove it." Friar
Ruffino returns to his cell in the wood, and being at prayer with many tears,
lo, the enemy comes in the form of Christ, according to outward similitude,
and saith to him, " O Friar Ruffino, did I not tell thou shouldst not
believe the son of Peter Bernadone, and shouldst not weary thee in tears
and prayers, seeing thou art damned ? What doth it profit thee to afflict
thyself while thou art yet alive, seeing that when thou diest thou shalt be
damned ? " And anon Friar Ruffino answered the devil and said, " Open thy
mouth and I will drop my dung therein." Whereupon the devil straightway
departed in great wrath, and with such tempest and ruin of stones, from Mount
Subasio hard by, that the thunder of the falling rocks endured a great space ;
and so mightily did they smite one against the other as they rolled down, that
they kindled horrible sparks of fire through the vale below : and at the terrible
FRIAR RUFFINO 55
noise they made, St. Francis and his companions issued forth from the friary
in great amaze to behold what strange thing had befallen ; and to this very
day that mighty ruin of rocks may be seen. Then did Friar Ruffino mani-
festly perceive that he who had beguiled him was the devil, and returning to
St. Francis flung himself again on the ground and confessed his fault. And
St. Francis comforted him with sweet words, and sent him forth all consoled
to his cell ; wherein, while he remained in devoutest prayers, the blessed
Christ appeared to him and kindled his whole soul with divine love, and said,
" Well didst thou, My son, to believe in Friar Francis ; for he who afflicted
thee was the devil ; but I am Christ thy Master, and to make thee full sure
I give thee this token : that while thou livest thou shalt feel neither sadness
nor melancholy." This said, Christ departed, leaving him in such gladness
and sweetness of spirit and elevation of mind, that day and night he was
absorbed and rapt in God. And thenceforth was he so confirmed in grace and
in certainty of salvation that he became wholly changed into another man, and
would have remained both day and night in prayer and in contemplation of
divine things, if the friars had suffered him. Wherefore St. Francis said of
him, that Friar Ruffino was canonised by Christ in this life, and that save in
his presence he would not hesitate to call him Saint Ruffino, albeit he still was
living on the earth.
CHAPTER XXX
Of the fair Sermon that St. Francis and Friar Ruffino preached at Assisi
The said Friar Ruffino was by his continual contemplation so absorbed in God
that he grew dumb and almost insensible to outward things, and spake very
seldom, and moreover, had no longer grace, nor courage, nor eloquence in
preaching. None the less St. Francis on a time bade him go to Assisi and
preach to the people what God should inspire him to say. Whereat Friar
Ruffino answered and said, " Reverend father, prithee forgive me and send
me not, for thou knowest I lack the gift of preaching, and am simple and un-
learned." Then said St. Francis, " Forasmuch as thou hast not obeyed quickly,
I command thee by holy obedience that thou go to Assisi naked, and clothed
only in thy breeches, and enter into a church and preach to the people." At
his command Friar Ruffino strips himself and goes forth to Assisi and enters a
church ; and having made his reverence to the altar ascends the pulpit and
56
ST. FRANCIS AT ASSISI
begins to preach. Whereat the children and the men of Assisi began to laugh
and said, " Now look ye, these friars do such penance that they grow foolish
and lose their wits." Meanwhile, St. Francis, bethinking him of the ready
obedience of Friar Ruffino, who was one of the noblest gentlemen of Assisi,
and of the hard command he had laid upon him, began to upbraid himself,
saying, " Whence, O son of Peter Bernadone, thou sorry churl, whence such
great presumption that thou commandest Friar Ruffino, one of the noblest
gentlemen of Assisi, to go and preach to the people like a crazy man ? By
God's grace thou shalt prove in thyself what thou commandest others to do."
And straightway in fervour of spirit he stripped himself in like manner and
set forth for Assisi ; and with him he took Friar Leo, who carried his and
Friar Ruffino's habits. And the men of Assisi, beholding him in like plight,
mocked him, deeming that he and Friar Ruffino were crazy from excess of
penance. St. Francis enters the church, where Friar Ruffino was preaching
thus : " O dearest brethren, flee from the world and forsake sin, make restora-
tion to others if ye would escape from hell ; keep God's commandments and
love God and your neighbour if ye would go to heaven ; do penance if ye
would possess the kingdom of heaven." Then St. Francis mounted the pulpit
and began to preach so wondrously of the contempt of the world, of holy
penance, of voluntary poverty, and of the desire for the heavenly kingdom, and
of the nakedness and shame of the passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all
they that were present at the sermon, men and women, in great multitudes,
began to weep bitterly with wondrous devotion and contrition of heart ; and
not only there, but throughout the whole of Assisi, was such bewailing of the
passion of Christ that the like had never been known before. And the people
being thus edified and consoled by this act of St. Francis and of Friar Ruffino,
St. Francis clothed himself and Friar Ruffino again ; and thus re-clad they
returned to the friary of the Porziuncula, praising and glorifying God, who
had given them the grace to vanquish themselves by contempt of self, and
to edify Christ's little sheep by good example, and to show forth how much
the world is to be despised. And on that day the devotion of the people
towards them increased so greatly that he who could touch the hem of their
garments deemed himself blessed.
ST. FRANCIS AT ASSISI 57
CHAPTER XXXI
How St. Francis knew the Secrets of the Consciences of his Friars in all things
Even as our Lord Jesus Christ saith in the gospel, " I know My sheep, and
Mine own know Me," &c, so the blessed father St. Francis, like a good
shepherd, knew all the merits and the virtues of his companions by divine
revelation, and likewise their failings : by which means he knew how to
provide the best remedy for each, to wit, by humbling the proud, exalting the
humble, reproving vice, and praising virtue, even as may be read in the
wondrous revelations he had, touching his first household. Among which
it is found that St. Francis being on a time with his household in a friary
discoursing of God, and Friar Ruffino not being with them during that
discourse, but in the wood absorbed in contemplation, lo, while they continued
in their discourse of God, Friar Ruffino came forth from the wood and passed
by somewhat afar from them. Then St. Francis, beholding him, turned to
his companions and asked of them, saying, "Tell me, who think ye is the
saintliest soul God hath in this world ? " and they answered him, saying, they
believed it was his own ; and St. Francis said to them, " Dearest friars, I am
of myself the most unworthy and vilest of men that God hath in this world ;
but, behold yon Friar Ruffino, that now cometh forth from the wood ! God
hath revealed to me that his soul is one of the three saintliest souls in this
world : and truly I say unto you, that I would not doubt to call him St.
Ruffino even while he yet liveth, for his soul is confirmed in grace, and
sanctified and canonised in heaven by our Lord Jesus Christ." But these
words St. Francis never spake in the presence of the said Friar Ruffino.
Likewise, how that St. Francis knew the failings of his friars is clearly
manifest in Friar Elias, whom many times he chid for his pride ; and in Friar
John of the Chapel, to whom he foretold that he was to hang himself by
the neck ; and in that friar whom the devil held fast by the throat when
he was corrected for his disobedience ; and in many other friars whose secret
failings and virtues he clearly knew by revelation from Christ.
H
58 FRIAR MASSEO
CHAPTER XXXII
How Friar Masseo craved from Christ the Virtue of Humility
The first companions of St. Francis strove with all their might to be poor
in earthly things and rich in virtue, whereby they attained to true celestial
and eternal riches. It befell one day that while they were gathered together
discoursing of God, a friar among them spake thus by way of ensample, " One
there was, a great friend of God, that had much grace both for the active
and for the contemplative life, and withal he was of such exceeding humility
that he deemed himself the greatest of sinners. And this humility confirmed
and sanctified him in grace and made him increase continually in virtue and
in divine gifts, and never suffered him to fall into sin." Now Friar Masseo,
hearing such wondrous things of humility, and knowing it to be a treasure
of life eternal, began to be so kindled with love and with desire for this virtue
of humility, that in great fervour of spirit he lifted up his face to heaven
and made a vow and steadfast aim never to rejoice again in this world until
he felt the said virtue perfectly in his soul : and thenceforth he remained
well-nigh continually secluded in his cell, mortifying himself with fasts, vigils,
prayer, and bitter tears before God to obtain that virtue from Him, failing
which he deemed himself worthy of hell — that virtue wherewith the friend of
God of whom he had heard, was so bounteously dowered. And Friar Masseo,
being thus for many days filled with this desire, it fell out on a day that he
entered the wood, and in fervour of spirit roamed about giving forth tears,
sighs, and cries, and craving this virtue from God with fervent desire : and
since God willingly granteth the prayers of humble and contrite hearts, there
came a voice from heaven to Friar Masseo, as he thus strove, and called him
twice, " Friar Masseo, Friar Masseo ! " And he, knowing in spirit that it was
the voice of Christ, answered thus, " My Lord." And Christ said to him,
" What wouldst thou give to possess the grace thou askest ? " Friar Masseo
answered, " Lord, I would give the eyes out of my head." And Christ said
to him, "And I will that thou have this grace and thine eyes also." This
said, the voice vanished, and Friar Masseo remained filled with such grace
of the yearned-for virtue of humility, and of the light of God, that from
thenceforth he was ever blithe of heart. And many times he made a joyous
ST. CLARE 59
sound, like the cooing of a dove, " Coo, coo, coo." And with glad coun-
tenance and jocund heart he dwelt thus in contemplation ; and withal, being
grown most humble, he deemed himself the least of men in the world. Being
asked by Friar James of Falterone wherefore he changed not his note in these
his jubilations, he answered with great joyfulness, that when we find full
contentment in one song there is no need to change the tune.
CHAPTER XXXIII
How St. Clare, by command of the Pope, blessed the Bread that lay on the Table,
whereupon the Sign of the Holy Cross appeared on every Loaf
St. Clare, most devout disciple of the cross of Christ and noble plant of
St. Francis, was so filled with holiness that not only bishops and cardinals
but the pope also, with great affection, desired to behold and to hear her,
and ofttimes visited her in person. Among other times, the holy father once
went to her convent to hear her discourse of divine and celestial things : and
being thus together, holding divers discourses, St. Clare had the table laid and
set loaves of bread thereon that the holy father might bless them. Where-
upon, the spiritual discourse being ended, St. Clare knelt down with great
reverence and besought him to be pleased to bless the bread placed on the
table. The holy father answers, " Sister Clare, most faithful one, I desire that
thou bless this bread, and make over it the sign of the most holy cross of
Christ, to which thou hast wholly devoted thyself." And St. Clare saith,
" Most holy father, pardon me, for I should merit too great reproof if, in
the presence of the vicar of Christ, I, that am a poor, vile woman, should
presume to give such benediction." And the pope gives answer, "To the end
that this be not imputed to thy presumption, but to the merit of obedience,
I command thee, by holy obedience, that thou make the sign of the most holy
cross over this bread, and bless it in the name of God." Then St. Clare, even
as a true daughter of obedience, devoutly blessed the bread with the sign of
the most holy cross. Marvellous to tell ! forthwith on all those loaves the
sign of the cross appeared figured most beautifully. Then, of those loaves,
a part was eaten and a part preserved, in token of the miracle. And the holy
father, when he saw this miracle, partook of the said bread and departed,
thanking God and leaving his blessing with St. Clare. In that time Sister
6o ST. LOUIS
Ortolana, mother of St. Clare, abode in the convent, and Sister Agnes, her
own sister, both of them, together with St. Clare, full of virtue and of the
Holy Spirit, and with many other nuns, to whom St. Francis sent many sick
persons ; and they, with their prayers and with the sign of the most holy
cross, restored health to all of them.
CHAPTER XXXIV
How St. Louis, King of France, went in Person, in the Guise of a Pilgrim, to
Perugia to Visit the Saintly Friar Giles
St. Louis, King of France, went on a pilgrimage to visit the holy places
throughout the world, and hearing of the far-famed holiness of Friar Giles,
who had been one of the first companions of St. Francis, purposed and set his
heart wholly on visiting him in person : for which thing he came to Perugia,
where the said friar then dwelt. And coming to the door of the friary as a
poor unknown pilgrim, with but few companions, he asked with great impor-
tunity for Friar Giles, telling not the doorkeeper who he was. So the door-
keeper goes to Friar Giles and says, "There is a pilgrim at the door that
asketh for you." And God inspired and revealed to him that this was the
King of France. Whereat, anon he comes forth from his cell with great
fervour and runs to the door ; and asking naught, and never having seen each
other before, they knelt down with great devotion, and embraced each other,
and kissed with such affection as if for a long space they had been great
friends together ; yet, through all this, neither one nor the other spake, but
they remained silently locked in each other's arms with those outward signs of
loving charity. And after they had remained thus a great space, saying no
word each to other, they both departed : St. Louis went his way and Friar
Giles returned to his cell. Now as the king was setting forth, a friar asked of
one of the king's companions who he might be that had so long embraced
Friar Giles, and answer was made that he was Louis, King of France, who
had come to see Friar Giles. And when the friar told this to the others
they waxed mightily afflicted that Friar Giles had spoken no word with the
king, and, making complaint, they cried, " O Friar Giles, wherefore hast thou
been so churlish as to speak no word to so great and saintly a king, that hath
VISITS FRIAR GILES 61
come from France to see thee and to hear some good word from thee ? "
Friar Giles answered, " Dearest Friars, marvel not thereat, for neither I to
him, nor he to me, could utter one word ; since, no sooner had we embraced
together, than the light of wisdom revealed and manifested his heart to me
and mine to him, and thus, by divine power, as we looked in each other's
breasts, we knew better what I would say to him, and he to me, than if we
had spoken with our mouths ; and greater consolation had we than if we
had sought to explain with our lips what we felt in our hearts. For, because
of the defect of human speech, that cannot express clearly the mysteries and
secrets of God, words would have left us disconsolate rather than consoled ;
know, therefore, that the king departed from me marvellously glad and
consoled in spirit."
CHAPTER XXXV
How St. Clare, being Sick, was Miraculously Borne on Christmas Eve to the
Church of St. Francis and there heard the Office
St. Clare, being on a time grievously sick, so that she could in no wise go to
say the office in church with the other nuns, and seeing that when the feast of
the Nativity of Christ came all the others went to matins, while she remained
in bed, grew ill at ease that she could not go with them and enjoy that spiritual
consolation. But Jesus Christ, her spouse, not willing to leave her thus
disconsolate, caused her to be miraculously borne to the church of St.
Francis, and to be present at the whole office of matins, and at the midnight
mass ; and moreover, she received the holy communion, and then was borne
back to her bed. When the nuns returned to St. Clare, after the office at
St. Damian's was over, they spake to her thus, " O Sister Clare, our mother,
what great consolation have we had on this holy feast of the Nativity ; would
now it had pleased God that you had been with us ! " And St. Clare answered,
" Thanks and praise do I render to our blessed Lord Jesus Christ, my sisters,
and dearest daughters, for at all the solemn offices of this most holy night, yea,
and at even greater festivals have I been present with great consolation of
soul, than ye have seen, for by the solicitude of my father, St. Francis, and
by the grace of Jesus Christ, have I been present in the church of my vener-
able father, St. Francis ; and with my bodily and spiritual ears have I heard
6 2 FRIAR LEO'S DREAM
all the offices and the music of the organs that were played there, and in
that same church have I partaken of the most holy communion. Wherefore
rejoice ye that such grace hath been vouchsafed to me and praise our Lord
Jesus Christ."
CHAPTER XXXVI
How St. Francis Interpreted a Fair Vision that Friar Leo had seen
On a time when St. Francis lay grievously sick and Friar Leo was tending
him, the said friar, being in prayer by the side of St. Francis, was rapt in
ecstasy and led in spirit to a mighty torrent, wide and raging. And as he
stood gazing on those who were crossing it, he beheld certain friars, bearing
burdens, enter into this stream that anon were overthrown by the fierce bufFet-
ings of the waves and drowned ; some reached as far as a third of the
way across ; others as far as the middle ; yet others reached nigh over unto
the shore. But all of them, by reason of the fury of the waters and the
heavy burdens they bore on their backs, fell at last and were drowned. Friar
Leo, beholding this, had compassion on them exceeding great, and straightway,
as he stood thus, lo, there comes a great multitude of friars, bearing no burdens
or load of any kind, in whom shone forth the light of holy poverty : and they
entered this stream and passed over to the other side without peril : and when
he had seen this, Friar Leo returned to himself. Then St. Francis, feeling in
spirit that Friar Leo had seen a vision, called him to himself and asked touch-
ing the vision he had seen. And as soon as the aforesaid Friar Leo had told
his vision in due order, St. Francis said, " What thou hast seen is true. The
mighty stream is this world ; the Friars that were drowned therein are they
that followed not the teachings of the gospel, and especially in regard to
most high poverty ; but they that passed over without peril are those friars
that seek after no earthly or carnal thing, nor possess aught in this world ; but,
temperate in food and clothing, are glad, following Christ naked on the cross,
and bear joyously and willingly the burden and sweet yoke of Christ and of
most holy obedience. Therefore they pass with ease from this temporal life
to life eternal."
A NOBLE KNIGHT 63
CHAPTER XXXVII
How Jesus Christ the Blessed, at the Prayer of St. Francis, caused a Rich and
Noble Knight to be Converted and become a Friar; which Knight had done
Great Honour and had Made Many Gifts unto St. Francis
St. Francis, servant of Christ, coming late at eve to the house of a great and
potent nobleman, was received and entertained by him, both he and his com-
panion, as had they been angels of God, with the greatest courtesy and devo-
tion ; wherefore St. Francis loved him much, considering that on entering the
house he had embraced him and kissed him affectionately ; then had washed his
feet and wiped them and humbly kissed them ; and had kindled a great fire
and made ready the table with many good viands ; and while he ate, did serve
him zealously with joyful countenance. Now when St. Francis and his com-
panion had eaten, this nobleman said, " Lo, my father, I proffer myself and
my goods to you ; how many times soever you have need of tunic or cloak
or aught else, buy them and I will pay for you ; nay, look you, I am ready to
provide for all your needs, for by God's grace I am able so to do, inasmuch as
I have abundance of all worldly goods ; therefore, for love of God, that hath
bestowed them on me, I willingly do good to His poor." St. Francis, behold-
ing such great courtesy and loving-kindness in him, and his bounteous
offerings, conceived for him love so great that when he afterwards departed
from him he spake thus to his companion as they journeyed together, " Verily
this noble gentleman, that is so grateful and thankful to God and so kind and
courteous to his neighbour and to the poor, would be a good companion for
our Order. Know, dearest friar, that courtesy is one of the attributes of God,
who of His courtesy giveth His sun and His rain to the just and to the unjust:
and courtesy is sister to charity, that quencheth hatred and kindleth love.
And since I have found such divine virtue in this good man, fain would I
have him for companion : therefore I will that one day we return to him, if
haply God may touch his heart and bend his will to accompany us in the
service of God. Meanwhile, pray we unto God that he may set this desire
in his heart and give him grace to attain thereto." Marvellous to tell ! a few
days after St. Francis had made this prayer, God put these desires into this
nobleman's heart, and St. Francis said to his companion, " Let us go, my
64
FRIAR ELIAS
brother, to the abode of that courteous gentleman, for I have a certain hope
in God that, with the same bounty he hath shown in temporal things, he
will give himself also, and will be our companion." And they went. And
coming nigh unto his house, St. Francis said to his companion, " Tarry a
while for me ; I desire first to pray to God that he may prosper our way,
and that it may please Jesus Christ to grant unto us, poor and weak men, the
noble prey we think to snatch from the world by virtue of His most holy
Passion." This said, he went forth to pray in a place where he might be
seen of that same courteous gentleman. Now, as it pleased God, he, looking
hither and thither, had perceived St. Francis most devoutly in prayer before
Jesus Christ, who with great splendour had appeared to him and stood before
him during the said prayer ; and as he thus gazed he beheld St. Francis lifted
up a great space bodily from the earth. Whereat he was so touched by God
and inspired to forsake the world that he straightway came forth from his
mansion and ran in fervour of spirit towards St. Francis, and coming to him,
who still remained in prayer, knelt down at his feet, and with great instance
and devotion prayed that it might please him to receive him and do penance
with him together. Then St. Francis, seeing his prayer was heard of God,
and that what he himself desired, that noble gentleman was craving with much
importunity, lifted himself up, and in fervour and gladness of heart embraced
and kissed him, devoutly giving thanks to God, who had increased his com-
pany by so great a knight. And that gentleman said to St. Francis, " What
dost thou command me to do, my father ? Lo, I am ready to do thy bidding
and give all I possess to the poor, and thus disburdened of all worldly things to
follow Christ with thee." Thus did he, according to the counsel of St. Francis,
for he distributed all his goods among the poor, and entered the Order and
lived in great penitence and holiness of life and godly conversation.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
How St. Francis knew in spirit that Friar Elias was damned and was to die outside
the Order : wherefore \ at the prayer of Friar Elias, he besought Christ for him
and was heard
On a time when St. Francis and Friar Elias were dwelling in a friary together,
it was revealed by God to St. Francis that Friar Elias was damned, and was to
FRIAR ELIAS 65
become a runagate and in the end die outside the Order. Whereat St. Francis
conceived so great a displeasure towards him that he never spake nor held
converse with him ; and if it befell that Friar Elias came towards him at any
time, he turned aside and went another way that he might not encounter him ;
whereby Friar Elias began to perceive and comprehend that St. Francis was
displeased with him. And desiring one day to know the cause thereof, he
accosted St. Francis and would speak with him ; and as St. Francis turned from
him he gently held him back by force, and began to entreat him earnestly to be
pleased to signify to him the reason why he thus shunned his company and
forbore to speak with him. And St. Francis answered, " The cause is this : It
hath been revealed to me by God that thou, for thy sins, shalt become a
runagate and shalt die outside the Order ; and God hath likewise revealed to
me that thou art damned." Hearing these words, Friar Elias spake thus, " My
reverend father, I pray thee for the love of Jesus Christ that for this cause thou
shun me not, nor cast me from thee ; but as a good shepherd, after the example
of Christ, thou seek out and receive again the sheep that will perish except
thou aid him, and that thou wilt pray to God for me, if haply He may revoke
the sentence of my damnation ; for it is written that God will remit the
sentence, if the sinner amend his ways ; and I have such great faith in thy
prayers, that if I were in the midst of hell, and thou didst pray to God for me,
I should feel some refreshment : wherefore yet again I beseech thee that thou
commend me, a sinner, unto God, who came to save sinners, that He may
receive me to His mercy-seat." This, Friar Elias said with great devotion and
tears ; whereat St. Francis, even as a compassionate father, promised he would
pray for him. And praying most devoutly to God for him, he understood by
revelation that his prayer was heard of God in so far as concerned the revoca-
tion of the sentence of damnation passed on Friar Elias, and that at the last his
soul should not be damned ; but that of a surety he would forsake the Order
and, outside the Order, would die. And so it came to pass. For when
Frederick, King of Sicily, rebelled against the church and was excommunicated
by the pope, he and whosoever gave him aid or counsel, the said Friar Elias,
that was reputed one of the wisest men in the world, being entreated by the
said King Frederick, went over to him, and became a rebel to the church and
a runagate from the Order. Wherefore he was banned by the pope and stripped
of the habit of St. Francis. And being thus excommunicate, behold he fell
grievously sick ; and his brother, a lay friar who had remained in the Order,
and was a man of good and honest life, went to visit him, and among other
1
66 ST. ANTHONY
things spake to him thus, " Dearest brother mine, it grieveth me sorely that
thou art excommunicate and cast out of thine Order and even so shall die : but
if thou seest any way or means whereby I may deliver thee from this peril,
willingly will I undertake any toil for thee." Friar Elias answered, " Brother
mine, no other way do I see but that thou repair to the pope and beseech him
for the love of God and of St. Francis His servant, at whose teachings I forsook
the world, that he assoil me from his ban and restore to me the habit of the
Order." And his brother answered that willingly would he labour for his
salvation : and departing from him he went to the footstool of the holy father
and humbly besought him that he would grant this grace to his brother, for
love of Christ and of St. Francis His servant. And as it pleased God, the pope
consented that he should return ; and that if he found Friar Elias yet living,
he should assoil him in his name from the ban and restore the habit to him.
Whereat he departed joyfully, and returned in great haste to Friar Elias, and,
finding him alive, but well-nigh at the point of death, assoiled him from the
ban ; and Friar Elias, putting on the habit again, passed from this life, and his
soul was saved by the merits of St. Francis and by his prayers, wherein Friar
Elias had placed hope so great.
CHAPTER XXXIX
Of the Marvellous Sermon that St. Anthony of 'Padua , a Friar Minor,
preached in the Consistory
That wondrous vessel of the Holy Spirit, St. Anthony of Padua, one of the
chosen disciples and companions of St. Francis, he that St. Francis called his
vicar, was once preaching in the consistory before the pope and the cardinals,
in which consistory were men of divers nations, to wit, French, Germans,
Sclavonians, and English, and divers other tongues throughout the world.
Inflamed by the Holy Spirit, he expounded the word of God so effectually, so
devoutly, so subtly, so sweetly, so clearly, and so wisely, that all they that were in
the consistory, albeit they were of divers nations, clearly understood all his
words distinctly, even as though he had spoken to each one of them in his
native tongue ; and all were filled with wonder, for it seemed that that miracle
of old were renewed when the Apostles, on the day of Pentecost, spake, by
the power of the Holy Spirit, in every tongue. And marvelling, they said one
ST. ANTHONY 67
to another, " Is he not of Spain, he that preacheth ? How then hear we all
the tongue of our native land in his speech ? " The pope likewise, considering
and marvelling at the depth of his words, said, " Verily this friar is the ark of
the covenant and the treasury of divine scriptures."
CHAPTER XL
Of the Miracle that God wrought, when St. Anthony, being at Rimini,
preached to the Fishes in the Sea
Christ the blessed, being pleased to show forth the great holiness of His most
faithful servant, St. Anthony, and with what devotion his preaching and his
holy doctrine were to be heard, one time, among others, rebuked the folly of
infidel heretics by means of creatures without reason, to wit, the fishes ; even
as in days agone, in the Old Testament, he rebuked the ignorance of Balaam
by the mouth of an ass. Wherefore it befell, on a time when St. Anthony was
at Rimini, where was a great multitude of heretics whom he desired to lead
to the light of the true faith and to the paths of virtue, that he preached for
many days and disputed with them concerning the faith of Christ and of the
Holy Scriptures : yet they not only consented not unto his words, but even
hardened their hearts and stubbornly refused to hear him. Wherefore St.
Anthony, by divine inspiration, went one day to the bank of the river, hard by
the seashore, and standing there on the bank, between the river and the
sea, began to speak to the fishes after the manner of a preacher sent by God,
" Hear the word of God, ye fishes of the sea and of the river, since the
miscreant heretics scorn to hear it." And when he had thus spoken, anon
there came towards the bank such a multitude of fishes, great and small, and
middling, that never before in those seas, nor in that river, had so great a
multitude been seen ; and all held their heads out of the water in great peace
and gentleness and perfect order, and remained intent on the lips of St.
Anthony : for in front of him and nearest to the bank were the lesser fishes ;
and beyond them were those of middling size ; and then behind, where the
water was deepest, were the greater fishes. The fishes being then mustered in
such order and array, St. Anthony began to preach to them solemnly, and
spake thus, " Ye fishes, my brothers, much are ye held, according to your
power, to thank God our Creator, who hath given you so noble an element
68 ST. ANTHONY
for your habitation ; for at your pleasure have ye waters, sweet and salt, and
He hath given you many places of refuge to shelter you from the tempests ;
He hath likewise given you a pure and clear element, and food whereby ye
can live. God, your Creator, bountiful and kind, when He created you,
commanded you to increase and multiply, and gave you His blessing ; then, in
the universal deluge and when all other animals were perishing, you alone did
God preserve from harm. Moreover, He hath given you fins that ye may fare
whithersoever it may please you. To you was it granted, by commandment of
God, to preserve Jonah the prophet, and after the third day to cast him forth
on dry land, safe and whole. Ye did offer the tribute money to Christ our
Lord, to Him, poor little one, that had not wherewithal to pay. Ye, by a
rare mystery, were the food of the eternal King, Christ Jesus, before the
resurrection and after. For all those things much are ye held to praise and
bless God, that hath given you blessings so manifold and so great ; yea, more
even than to any other of His creatures." At these and the like words and
admonitions from St. Anthony, the fishes began to open their mouths and bow
their heads, and by these and other tokens of reverence, according to their
fashion and power, they gave praise to God. Then St. Anthony, beholding in
the fishes such great reverence towards God their Creator, rejoiced in spirit,
and said with a loud voice, " Blessed be God eternal, since the fishes in the
waters honour Him more than do heretic men ; and creatures without reason
hear His word better than infidel men." And the longer St. Anthony preached,
the greater the multitude of fishes increased, and none departed from the place
he had taken. And the people of the city began to run to behold this miracle,
among whom the aforesaid heretics were also drawn thither ; and when they
beheld a miracle so marvellous and manifest, they were pricked in their hearts,
and cast themselves all at the feet of St. Anthony to hear his words. Then
St. Anthony began to preach the catholic faith, and so nobly did he expound
the faith that he converted all those heretics, and they turned to the true faith
of Christ ; and all the faithful were comforted and filled with joy exceeding
great, and were strengthened in the faith. This done, St. Anthony dismissed
the fishes, with God's blessing, and all they departed with wondrous signs of
gladness, and the people likewise. And then St. Anthony sojourned in Rimini
many days, preaching and gathering much spiritual fruit of souls.
FRIAR SIMON 69
CHAPTER XLI
How the Venerable Friar Simon delivered a Friar from a Great Temptation
who for this Cause had desired to leave the Order
In the early days of the Order of St. Francis, and while the saint was
yet alive, a youth of Assisi came to the Order who was called Friar
Simon, whom God adorned and endowed with such grace and such
contemplation and elevation of mind that all his life he was a mirror
of holiness, even as I heard from those that were with him a long time.
Very seldom was he seen outside his cell, and if at any time he was seen
with the friars, he was ever discoursing of God. He had never been through
the schools, yet so profoundly and so loftily spake he of God, and of the
love of Christ, that his words seemed supernatural ; wherefore one evening
being gone into the wood with Friar James of Massa to speak of God, they
spent all the night in that discourse ; and when the dawn came it seemed
to them they had been together but for a very brief space of time, as the
said Friar James related to me. And the said Friar Simon received the
divine and loving illuminations of God to such a degree of pleasantness
and sweetness that ofttimes when he felt them coming he lay down on
his bed ; for the gentle sweetness of the Holy Spirit required of him, not
only rest of soul, but also of body, and in divine visitations, such as these,
he was many times rapt in God and became insensible to corporeal things.
Wherefore on a time when he was thus rapt in God and insensible to
the world, and burning inwardly with divine love, so that he felt naught
of outward things with his bodily senses, a friar, desiring to have experience
thereof and prove if it were verily as it seemed to be, went and took a
coal of fire and laid it on his naked foot. And Friar Simon felt naught,
nor made it any scar on the foot, albeit it remained there a great space,
so great that it went out of itself. The said Friar Simon, when he sat
down at table, before he partook of bodily food was wont to take to
himself and give to others spiritual food, discoursing of God. By his devout
speech a young man of San Severino was once converted, who in the world
was a most vain and worldly youth, and of noble blood and very delicate
of body ; and Friar Simon receiving this youth into the Order, put aside
his worldly vestments and kept them near himself, and he abode with Friar
7o FRIAR SIMON
Simon to be instructed by him in the observances of the Order. Whereat the
devil, who ever seeketh to thwart every good thing, set within him so
mighty a thorn and temptation of the flesh that in no wise could he resist ;
wherefore he repaired to Friar Simon and said to him, " Restore to me
my clothes that I brought from the world, for I can no longer endure
the temptation of the flesh." And Friar Simon, having great compassion
on him, spake to him thus, " Sit thou here a while with me, my son."
And he began to discourse to him of God, in such wise that all temptation
left him ; then after a time the temptation returned, and he asked for his
clothes again, and Friar Simon drave it forth again by discoursing of God.
This being done many times, at last the said temptation assailed him so
mightily one night, even more than it was wont to do, that for naught in
this world was he able to resist it ; and he went to Friar Simon and
demanded from him yet again all his worldly clothes, for in no wise could
he longer remain. Then Friar Simon, according as he was wont to do,
made him sit beside him ; and as he discoursed to him of God, the youth
leaned his head on Friar Simon's bosom for very woe and sadness. Then
Friar Simon, of his great compassion, lifted up his eyes to heaven and
made supplication to God ; and as he prayed most devoutly for him, the
youth was rapt in God and Friar Simon's prayers were heard : wherefore
the youth returning to himself was wholly delivered from that temptation,
even as though had he never felt it : yea, the fire of temptation was
changed to the fire of the Holy Spirit, forasmuch as he had sat beside
that burning coal, Friar Simon, who was all inflamed with the love of
God and of his neighbour, in such wise that on a time, when a malefactor
was taken that was to have both his eyes plucked out, the said youth for
very pity went boldly up to the governor, and in full council and with
many tears and devout prayers entreated that one of his own eyes might
be plucked out, and one of the malefactor's, in order that the wretch might
not be deprived of both. But the governor and his council, beholding the
great fervour and charity of the friar, remitted both of them. One day
as Friar Simon was in the wood at prayer, feeling great consolation in his
soul, a flock of rooks began to do him much annoy by their cawing :
whereat he commanded them in the name of Jesus to depart and return no
more ; and the said birds departing thence were no more seen nor heard,
neither in the wood nor in all the country round about. And the miracle
was manifest over all the custody of Fermo wherein the said friary stood.
IHHOnBnHHnHBHHBHHH
HOLY FRIARS OF ANCONA 71
CHAPTER XLII
Of the Fair Miracles God wrought through His Holy Friars, Friar Bentivoglia,
Friar Peter of Monticello, and Friar Conrad of Offida ; and how Friar
Bentivoglia carried a Leper fifteen miles in a very brief time ; and
how the other Friar spake with St. Michael, and how to the third
came the Virgin Mary and laid Her Son in his Arms
The province of the Marches of Ancona was adorned of old, after the
manner of the starry firmament, with holy and exemplary friars who, like
the shining lights of heaven, have adorned and illumined the Order of
St. Francis and the world by their example and doctrine. Among others
there was, in the early days, Friar Lucido Antico, that was truly lucent by
his holiness and burning with divine charity, whose glorious tongue, informed
of the Holy Spirit, brought forth marvellous fruit by his preaching. Another
was Friar Bentivoglia of San Severino, who was seen by Friar Masseo to be
lifted up in the air for a great space while he was at prayer in the wood ; for
which miracle the devout Friar Masseo, being then a parish priest, left his
parish and became a friar minor ; and he was of holiness so great that he
wrought many miracles during his life and after his death, and his body lies
at Murro. The aforesaid Friar Bentivoglia, when he sojourned alone at Ponte
della Trave, tending and serving a leper, was commanded by his superior to
depart thence and go to another friary that was fifteen miles away ; and not
being willing to forsake the leper, he laid hold of him, and with great fervour
of charity lifted him on to his shoulder and carried him between dawn and
sunrise the whole of those fifteen miles as far as the place whither he was sent,
that was called Monte Sancino : which distance, even had he been an eagle,
he could not have flown in so short a time ; and in all that country was much
wonder and amazement at this divine miracle. Another was Friar Peter of
Monticello, who was seen by Friar Servodio of Urbino, then warden of the
old friary of Ancona, to be lifted bodily up from the ground full five or six
cubits, as far as the foot of the crucifix before which he was in prayer. And
this Friar Peter, while keeping the forty days' fast of St. Michael the Archangel
with great devotion, and being in church at prayer on the last day of that fast,
was heard by a young friar speaking with St. Michael the Archangel, for he
72 HOLY FRIARS OF ANCONA
had hidden himself under the high altar to behold somewhat of his sanctity ;
and the words he spake were these. Said St. Michael, "Friar Peter, thou
hast faithfully travailed for me, and in many ways hast afflicted thy body : lo,
I am come to comfort thee, and that thou mayest ask whatsoever grace thou
desirest I will promise to obtain it of God." Friar Peter answered, " Most
holy prince of the host of heaven, and faithful zealot of divine love and com-
passionate protector of souls, this grace do I ask of thee : that thou obtain
from God the pardon of my sins." St. Michael answered, "Ask some other
grace, for this shall I obtain for thee right easily." But Friar Peter asking
naught else, the archangel made an end, saying, " For the faith and devotion
thou hast in me I will obtain this grace for thee and many others." And
their discourse being ended, that endured a great space, the archangel Michael
departed, leaving him comforted exceedingly. In the days of this holy Friar
Peter lived the holy Friar Conrad of Offida, who, dwelling with him together
at the friary of Forano in the custody of Ancona, went forth one day into the
wood for divine contemplation ; and Friar Peter secretly followed after him
to see what should befall him. And Friar Conrad betook himself to prayer
and most devoutly besought the Virgin Mary, of her great compassion, that
she would obtain this grace from her blessed Son : to wit, that he might
feel a little of that sweetness that St. Simeon felt on the day of Purification
when he bore Jesus the blessed Saviour in his arms. And his prayer ended,
the merciful Virgin Mary granted it. And lo, the Queen of Heaven appeared
with resplendent clarity of light, with her blessed Son in her arms, and drawing
nigh to Friar Conrad, laid her blessed Son in his arms, who, receiving Him,
devoutly embraced and kissed Him, then clasping Him to his breast, was
wholly melted and dissolved in love divine and unspeakable consolation : and
Friar Peter likewise, who secretly beheld all these things, felt great sweetness
and consolation in his soul. And when the Virgin Mary had departed from
Friar Conrad, Friar Peter returned in haste to the friary that he might not
be seen of him. But thereafter when Friar Conrad returned, all joyous
and glad, Friar Peter said to him, " O celestial soul, great consolation hast
thou had this day." Said Friar Conrad, " What sayest thou, Friar Peter ?
How knowest thou what I may have had ? " " Full well I know, full well I
know," said Friar Peter, "that the Virgin Mary with her blessed Son hath
visited thee." Then Friar Conrad, who with true humility desired that this
grace of God should be hidden, besought him to speak no word of these things.
And so great thenceforth was the love between these two friars that they
FRIAR CONRAD 73
seemed to be of one heart and one mind in all things. And the said Friar
Conrad on a time in the friary of Siruolo delivered a woman possessed of a
devil by praying for her the whole night through, and being seen of her
mother on the morrow, he fled lest he might be found and honoured by
the people.
CHAPTER XLIII
How Friar Conrad of Offida converted a young Friar who was a stumbling-block
to the other Friars. And how after the said young Friar died he appeared to the
said Friar Conrad and entreated him to pray for him ; and how he delivered
him by his Prayers from the most grievous pains of Purgatory
The said Friar Conrad of Offida, wondrous zealot of gospel poverty and of
the Rule of St. Francis, was of so religious a life, and of such great merit
before God, that Christ the blessed honoured him in his life and after his
death with many miracles, among which, being come on a time to the friary
of Offida as a guest, the friars prayed him for love of God and of his charity
to admonish a young friar that was in the settlement, who bore himself so
childishly, so disorderly and dissolutely, that he disturbed both old and young
of that community during the divine offices, and recked little or naught of
the observances of the Rule. Whereupon Friar Conrad, in compassion for
that youth, and at the prayers of the friars, called the said youth apart one
day, and in fervour of charity spake to him words of admonition so effectual
and so divine, that by the operation of divine grace he straightway became
changed from a child to an old man in manners, and grew so obedient and
benign and diligent and devout, and thereafter so peaceful and obedient, and
so studious of every virtuous thing, that even as at first the whole community
were perturbed because of him, so now all were content with him, and
comforted, and greatly loved him. And it came to pass, as it pleased God,
that some time after this conversion, the said youth died, whereat the said
friars mourned ; and a few days after his death, his soul appeared to Friar
Conrad, while he was devoutly praying before the altar of the said friary, and
saluted him devoutly as a father ; and Friar Conrad asked him, " Who art
thou ? " And he answered and said, " I am the soul of that young friar
that died these latter days." And Friar Conrad said, "O my dearest son,
how is it with thee ? " He answered, " By God's grace, and your teach-
74 FRIAR PETER
ing, 'tis well ; for I am not damned, but for certain of my sins, whereof
I lacked time to purge me sufficiently, I suffer grievous pains in purgatory ;
but I pray thee, father, that as of thy compassion thou didst succour me
while I lived, so may it please thee to succour me now in my pains, and
say some paternosters for me ; for thy prayers are very acceptable before
God." Then Friar Conrad consented kindly to his prayers and recited the
paternoster, with the requiem externum, once for him. Said that soul, " O
dearest father, what great good and what great refreshment do I feel !
Now, prithee recite it once again." And Friar Conrad recited it, and when
it was repeated again, that soul said, " Holy father, when thou prayest for
me I feel all my pains lightened, wherefore I beseech thee that thou stay
not thy prayers for me." Then Friar Conrad, beholding his prayers availed
that soul so much, said a hundred paternosters for him. And when they
were recited, that soul said, " I thank thee, dearest father, in God's name,
for the charity thou hast had for me : for by thy prayers am I freed from
all the pains of purgatory, and am on my way to the kingdom of heaven."
This said, the soul departed. Then Friar Conrad, to give joy and comfort
to the friars, related to them all this vision in order ; and thus the soul
of that youth went to paradise through the merits of Friar Conrad.
CHAPTER XLIV
How the Mother of Christ and St. John the Evangelist appeared to Friar Peter
and told him which of them suffered greatest pain at the Passion of Christ
In the days when the aforesaid Friar Conrad and Friar Peter abode together
at the friary of Forano, in the district of Ancona — those two friars that
were bright twin stars in the province of the Marches, and two most godly
men — forasmuch as they seemed of one heart and one mind, they, in their
love and charity, bound themselves together in this covenant : That they
would reveal to each other in charity every consolation that God in His
mercy bestowed on them. This covenant being made between them, it
befell on a day when Friar Peter was at prayer and pondering most devoutly
on the Passion of Christ, and how that the most blessed Mother of Christ,
and John the Evangelist, the most beloved disciple, and St. Francis, were
all painted at the foot of the cross, crucified in dolour of soul with Christ,
FRIAR JOHN 75
a desire came upon him to know which of those three had suffered greatest
sorrow in the Passion of Christ — the Mother that had begotten Him, or
the disciple that had slept on His breast, or St. Francis, crucified with the
wounds of Christ. And being thus absorbed in meditation, the Virgin
Mary appeared to him, with St. John the Evangelist and St. Francis, clothed
in noblest raiment of beatific glory ; but St. Francis seemed arrayed in
a fairer garment than St. John. And Peter being sore afeard at this vision,
St. John comforted him and said to him, " Fear not, dearest brother, for
we are come to console thee in thy doubt. Know then that the mother of
Christ and I sorrowed above all other creatures at the Passion of Christ ;
but after us St. Francis felt greater sorrow than any other : therefore thou
seest him in such glory." And Friar Peter asked, "O holiest Apostle of
Christ, wherefore doth the raiment of St. Francis seem fairer than thine ? "
St. John answered, " The reason is this : that in the world he wore viler
garments than I." These words said, St. John gave Friar Peter a glorious
robe that he bore in his hand, and said to him, " Take this robe which
I have brought to give thee." And when St. John was about to clothe
him with it, Friar Peter fell dazed to the ground and began to cry, " Friar
Conrad, dearest Friar Conrad, succour me quickly ; come and behold marvel-
lous things." And at these holy words the saintly vision vanished. Then
when Friar Conrad came he told him all things in order, and they gave
thanks to God.
CHAPTER XLV
Of the Conversion, Life, Miracles, and Death of the Holy Friar
John of La Penna
One night, in the province of the Marches, a child, exceeding fair, appeared
to Friar John of La Penna, when he was yet a lad in the world, and called
him, saying, "John, go to the church of St. Stephen, where one of my friars
minor is preaching ; believe in his teaching and give heed to his words, for
I have sent him thither ; this done, thou shalt take a long journey and thou
shalt come to me." Whereat, anon he rose up, and felt a great change in
his soul, and going to St. Stephen's, he found a great multitude of men and
women that were assembled there to hear the sermon. And he who was to
preach there was a friar, called Friar Philip, who was one of the first friars
j 6 FRIAR JOHN
that had come to the Marches of Ancona ; and as yet few friaries were
established in the Marches. Up climbs this Friar Philip to preach, and
preaches most devoutly, and not in words of human wisdom ; but by virtue
of the spirit of Christ he announced the kingdom of life eternal. The sermon
ended, the lad went to the said Friar Philip and said to him, " Father, an it
please you to receive me into the Order, fain would I do penance and serve
our Lord Jesus Christ." Friar Philip, beholding and knowing the wondrous
innocence of the said lad and his ready will to serve God, spake to him thus,
" Thou shalt come to me on such a day at Ricanati, and I will have thee
received." Now the provincial Chapter was to be held in that city, wherefore
the lad, being very guileless, thought this was the great journey he was to
make, according to the revelation he had had, and then was to go to paradise ;
and this he thought to do straightway after he was received into the Order.
Therefore he went and was received : and then, seeing his thought was not
fulfilled, and hearing the minister say in the Chapter that whosoever would go
to the province of Provence, through the merit of holy obedience, he would
freely give him leave, there came to him a great desire to go thither, believing
in his heart that that was the great journey he must take ere he went to
paradise. But he was ashamed to say so, and confided at last in the aforesaid
Friar Philip, that had had him received into the Order, and gently prayed him
to obtain that grace for him, to wit, that he should go to the province of
Provence. Then Friar Philip, beholding his innocency and his holy intent,
obtained leave for him to go ; whereupon Friar John set forth on his way
with great joy, believing that, the journey accomplished, he would go to
paradise. But it pleased God that he should remain in the said province
five-and-twenty years in this expectancy and desire, a pattern of sanctity and
walking in great godliness ; and increasing ever in virtue and in the favour
of God, and of the people, he was greatly loved by the friars and by the world.
And Friar John, being one day devoutly in prayer, weeping and lamenting
that his desire was not fulfilled and that his earthly pilgrimage was too pro-
longed, the blessed Christ appeared to him, at whose aspect his soul was all
melted, and said to him, " My son, Friar John, ask of Me what thou wilt."
And he answered, " My Lord, I know not what to ask of Thee save Thyself,
for naught else do I desire ; this alone I pray — that thou forgive me all my
sins, and give me grace to behold Thee once again when I may have a greater
need of Thee." Said Christ, "Thy prayer is granted." After these words He
departed, and Friar John remained all comforted. At last the friars of the
OF LA PENNA jj
Marches, hearing of the fame of his holiness, wrought so with the general
of the Order that he bade him by obedience return to the Marches ; and when
Friar John received this command, joyously he set forth on his way, thinking
that this journey being accomplished he should go to heaven, according to
the promise of Christ. But when he was returned to the province of the
Marches, he abode there yet thirty years, and none of his kinsfolk knew him :
and every day he waited for the mercy of God and that he should fulfil the
promise made to him. And during these years he filled the office of warden
many times with great discretion, and through him God wrought many
miracles. Now among other gifts he had of God, was the spirit of prophecy.
Wherefore, on a time when he was gone forth from the friary, one, his novice,
was assailed by the devil and tempted so mightily that he consented to the
temptation, and purposed within himself to leave the Order as soon as Friar
John had returned. But this temptation and purpose being known to Friar
John by the spirit of prophecy, he straightway returned to the friary and
called the said novice to him and bade him confess : and before he confessed
he related all the temptation to him in order, even as God had revealed it
to him, and ended thus, " Son, forasmuch as thou didst wait for me, and
wouldst not depart without my blessing, God hath granted thee this grace —
that thou shalt never issue forth from this Order, but by divine grace shalt die
in the Order." Then the said novice was strengthened in his good will, and
remaining in the Order, became a holy friar. And all these things Friar
Hugolin related to me. The said Friar John, who was a man of joyful and
tranquil mind, spake but rarely, and was given to great meditation and
devotion : and above all, after matins he never returned to his cell, but
remained in church at prayer until the day broke. And he, being at prayer
one night after matins, the angel of God appeared to him and said, " Friar
John, thy journey is accomplished for which thou hast waited so long :
therefore I announce to thee in God's name that thou mayst ask whatsoever
grace thou desirest. And likewise I announce to thee that thou mayst choose
which thou wilt — either one day in purgatory or seven days' pain on earth."
And Friar John, choosing rather seven days' pain on earth, anon fell sick of
divers infirmities ; for a violent fever took him, and gout in his hands and
feet, and colic, and many other ills ; but what wrought him greatest pain was,
that a devil stood before him, holding in his hand a great scroll, whereon were
written all the sins he had ever done or thought, and spake to him thus, " For
those sins that thou hast done, either in thought, or word, or deed, thou
78 FRIAR JOHN
art damned to the lowest depths of hell." And he remembered naught of
good that he had ever done, nor that he was in the Order, nor ever had been
therein ; but he believed he was thus damned, even as the devil told him.
Wherefore, when he was asked how it went with him, he answered, " 111,
for I am damned." The friars, seeing this, sent for an aged friar, whose name
was Friar Matthew of Monte Rubbiano, who was a holy man and dear friend
of this Friar John : and the said Friar Matthew, being come to him on the
seventh day of his tribulation, gave him salutation and asked how it was with
him. He answered, that it fared ill with him because he was damned. Then
said Friar Matthew, " Rememberest thou not that many times thou hast
confessed to me, and I have wholly assoiled thee of thy sins ? Rememberest
thou likewise that thou hast ever served God in this holy Order many years ?
Moreover, rememberest thou not that God's mercy exceedeth all the sins of
this world, and that Christ, our blessed Saviour, paid an infinite price to
redeem us ? Therefore be of good hope, for of a surety thou art saved " ; and
with these words, forasmuch as the term of his purgation was accomplished,
temptation vanished and consolation came. And with great gladness Friar
John said to Friar Matthew, " Because thou art weary and the hour is late,
I pray thee, go to rest." And Friar Matthew would not leave him ; but
at last, at his urgent prayers, he departed from him and went to rest : and
Friar John remained alone with the friar that tended him. And lo, Christ
the blessed came, in great splendour and in fragrance of exceeding sweetness,
even as He had promised to appear to him again when he should have greater
need, and healed him perfectly from all his infirmities. Then Friar John,
with clasped hands giving thanks to God that he had accomplished the great
iourney of this present miserable life with so good an end, commended his
soul to the hands of Christ and rendered it up to God, passing from this mortal
life to life eternal with Christ the blessed, that he so long a time had desired
and waited to behold. And the said Friar John is laid to rest in the friary of
La Penna di San Giovanni.
FRIAR PACIFICO 79
CHAPTER XLVI
How Friar Pacifico \ being at prayer \ beheld the soul of Friar Umile \
his brother, ascending to Heaven
In the said province of the Marches there lived two brothers in the Order,
after the death of St. Francis, the one called Friar Umile, the other Friar
Pacifico, and they were men of the greatest holiness and perfection. And one,
to wit, Friar Umile, was in the friary of Soffiano, and there died ; the other
belonged to the community of another friary in a far country. It pleased
God, that as Friar Pacifico was at prayer one day, in a solitary place, he was
rapt in ecstasy and saw the soul of his brother, Friar Umile, which but then
had left his body, ascending straight to heaven without any let or hindrance.
It befell after many years that this Friar Pacifico, who was left on earth, went
to the community of the said friary of Soffiano, where his brother had died ;
and in those days the friars, at the petition of the lords of Bruforte, moved
from the said friary to another ; and among other things, they translated the
relics of the holy friars that had died there. And Friar Pacifico, coming to
the sepulchre of Friar Umile, took away his bones and washed them with
good wine and then wrapped them in a white napkin, and with great reverence
and devotion kissed them, weeping. Whereat the other friars marvelled and
held it no good example, for he, being a man of great holiness, did seem, out
of carnal and worldly affection, to weep for his brother, and show forth more
devotion for his relics than for those of the other friars that had been of no
less sanctity than Friar Umile, and were as much worthy of reverence as his.
And Friar Pacifico, knowing the sinister imaginings of the friars, satisfied
them humbly, and said to them, " Friars mine, most dear, marvel not if I have
done this to the bones of my brother and have done it not to the others,
because, blessed be God, carnal affection hath not urged me to this, as ye
believe, for when my brother passed from this life, I was at prayer in a desert
place far away from him, and I beheld his soul ascend by a straight way into
heaven ; therefore am I sure that his bones are holy and ought to be in
paradise. And if God had vouchsafed to me such certainty of the other friars,
that selfsame reverence would I have shown to their bones." Wherefore the
friars, seeing his holy and devout intent, were much edified by him, and
praised God that worketh such wondrous things for His holy friars.
8o THE HOLY FRIAR'S VISION
CHAPTER XLVII
Touching that holy Friar to whom the Mother of Christ appeared when he lay
sick and brought him three boxes of Electuary
In the aforesaid friary of Soffiano there was of old a friar minor of such great
holiness and grace that he seemed wholly divine, and ofttimes was rapt in
God. This friar, being on a time wholly lifted up and ravished in God, for
he had notably the grace of contemplation, certain birds of divers kinds came
to him and settled themselves tamely upon his shoulders, upon his head, and
in his arms, and in his hands, and sang wondrously. Now this friar loved
solitude and spake but seldom ; yet, when aught was asked of him, he answered
so graciously and so wisely that he seemed an angel rather than a man ; and
he excelled in prayer and in contemplation, and the friars held him in great
reverence. The friar, having run the course of his virtuous life, according to
divine disposition, fell sick unto death, so that he could take naught ; and
withal he would receive no carnal medicine, but all his trust was in the
heavenly physician, Jesus Christ the blessed, and in his blessed Mother, by
whom, through divine clemency, he was held worthy to be mercifully visited
and healed. Wherefore, lying on a time in his bed, and preparing for death
with all his heart, the glorious Virgin Mary, Mother of Christ, appeared to
him in wondrous splendour, with a great multitude of angels and holy virgins,
and drew nigh to his bed ; and he, gazing at her, took great comfort and joy,
both of soul and body ; and he began to make humble supplication that she
would pray her beloved Son to deliver him, through His merits, from the
prison of this miserable flesh. And persevering in this supplication, with
many tears, the Virgin Mary answered him, calling him by name, and said,
" Fear not, my son, for thy prayer is heard, and I am come to comfort thee a
while ere thou depart from this life." Beside the Virgin Mary were three
holy virgins that bore three boxes in their hands of an electuary of surpassing
fragrance and sweetness. Then the glorious Virgin took one of these boxes
and opened it, and the whole house was filled with fragrance ; then, taking
of that electuary with a spoon, she gave it to the sick friar. And no sooner
had the sick man savoured it than he felt such comfort and such sweetness
that it seemed as though his soul could not remain in his body. Wherefore
he began to say, " No more, O most holy and blessed Virgin Mother ; O
FRIAR JAMES OF LA MASSA 81
blessed physician and saviour of human kind, no more, for I cannot endure
such sweetness." But the compassionate Mother and kind, again and again
offering of that electuary to the sick man and making him partake thereof,
emptied the whole box. Then the first box being void, the blessed Virgin
takes the second and puts the spoon therein to give him thereof, whereat
he, complaining, saith, " O most blessed Mother of God, if my soul is
well-nigh all melted with the ardour and sweetness of the first electuary,
how shall I endure the second ? I pray thee, O thou blessed above all
the other saints and above all the angels, that thou wilt give me no
more." The glorious Virgin Mary makes answer, " Taste, my son, taste
yet a little of this second box," and giving him a little thereof, she
said to him, " This day, son, thou hast enough to satisfy thee ; be of
good cheer, for soon will I come for thee and lead thee to the kingdom
of my Son, that thou hast ever sought after and desired." This said,
and taking leave of him, she departed, and he remained so comforted
and consoled, through the sweetness of this confection, that for many
days he lived on, sated and strong, without any corporeal food. And
some days thereafter, while blithely speaking with the friars, he passed from
this miserable life in great jubilation and gladness.
CHAPTER XLVIII
How Friar James of La Massa saw in a Vision all the Friars Minor in the
World in the Similitude of a Tree, and Anew the Virtues and the Merits
and the Sins of each one of them.
Friar James of La Massa, to whom God opened the door of His mysteries
and gave perfect knowledge and understanding of the divine scripture and.
of future things, was of such sanctity that Friar Giles of Assisi, and Friar
Mark of Montino, and Friar Juniper and Friar Lucido, said of him, that
they knew no one in the world greater in the sight of God than this Friar
James. I had great desire to behold him ; for on praying Friar John, the
companion of the said Friar Giles, to expound to me certain spiritual things,
he answered, " If thou wouldst be well informed in matters of the spiritual
life, strive to speak with Friar James of La Massa (for Friar Giles was fain
to be instructed by him), and to his words naught can be added nor
8i THE VISION OF
taken away ; for his mind hath penetrated the mysteries of heaven, and
his words are words of the Holy Ghost, and there is no man on earth
that I have so great a desire to see." This Friar James, when Friar
John of Parma took up his office as minister of the Order, was rapt
in God while at prayer, and remained thus rapt in ecstasy three days,
bereft of all bodily senses, and was so insensible that the friars doubted
lest he were truly dead : and in this ecstasy it was revealed to him by
God what things were to come to pass in our Order. Wherefore, when
Friar Giles said those words, my desire to hear him and to speak with
him increased within me. And when it pleased God that I should have
opportunity to speak with him, I besought him thus, " If this that I have
heard tell of thee be true, prithee keep it not hidden from me. I have
heard that when thou didst remain well-nigh dead for three days, God
revealed to thee, among other things, what should come to pass in this
our Order ; for this was related to me by Friar Matthew, minister of
the Marches, to whom thou didst reveal it by obedience." Then Friar
James confessed, with great humility, that what Friar Matthew had said
was true. And his words, to wit, the words of Friar Matthew, minister
of the Marches, were these, " I know a friar to whom God hath revealed
what shall hereafter come to pass in our Order ; for Friar James of La
Massa hath made known to me and said, that after many things God
revealed to him touching the state of the Church Militant, he beheld
in a vision a tree, fair and very great, whose roots were of gold, and
whose fruits were men, and all they were friars minor ; and the chief
branches thereof were marked out according to the number of the provinces
of the Order, and each branch had as many friars as there were in the
province marked on that branch. And so he knew the numbers of all
the friars in the Order, and of each province, and likewise their names,
and the ages and the conditions and the high offices and the dignities
and the graces of all, and their sins. And he beheld Friar John of Parma
in the highest place on the midmost branch of this tree ; and on the
top of the branches that were round about this branch were the ministers
of all the provinces. And thereafter he beheld Christ seated on a pure white
throne exceeding great, whereto He called St. Francis and gave him a cup,
full of the spirit of life, and sent him forth, saying, " Go and visit thy friars
and give them to drink of this cup of the spirit of life ; for the spirit of Satan
shall rise up against them and shall smite them, and many of them shall fall
FRIAR JAMES 83
and not rise again." And Christ gave two angels to St. Francis to bear him
company. And then St. Francis came and held forth the cup of life to his
friars : and he began to hold it forth first to Friar John of Parma, who, taking
it, drank it all devoutly and in great haste ; and forthwith he became all
bright and shining as the sun. And after him St. Francis held it forth to
all the others in due order, and few were they among these that took it
and drank it all with meet reverence and devotion. They that took it
devoutly and drank it all became straightway bright and shining as the sun ;
and they that poured it away, and took it not with devotion, became black
or dark and misshapen and horrible to behold : and they that drank a part
and threw a part away became in part bright and shining, in part dark and
tenebrous, more or less, according to the measure of their drinking or
pouring away the cup. But, resplendent above all the others, was the
aforesaid Friar John, who most completely had drunk of the cup of life,
whereby he had most deeply fathomed the abyss of the infinite light divine ;
and therein he had foreseen the adversity and storms that were to rise up
against the said tree, and buffet it and make the branches thereof to shake.
Wherefore the said Friar John descended from the top of the branch whereon
he was, and climbed down all the branches and hid himself beneath them
against the knotted bole of the tree, and there remained deep in thought.
And a friar that had drunken part of the cup and part had poured away,
climbed up that branch and to that place whence Friar John had descended.
And while he stood in that place the nails of his fingers became of steel,
sharp and cutting as razors ; whereat he came down from that place whither
he had climbed, and with rage and fury would have flung himself against
Friar John to do him hurt. But Friar John, beholding this, cried out
amain and commended himself to Christ who was seated on the throne :
and Christ, at his cries, called St. Francis to him and gave him a sharp
flintstone, and said to him, " Go, and with this stone cut the nails of that
friar, wherewith he would fain rend Friar John, so that they may do him
no hurt." Then St. Francis came and did as Christ had commanded him.
This done, there arose a storm of wind and smote against the tree so mightily
that the friars fell to the ground ; and first fell they that had poured out all
the cup of the spirit of life, and were carried away by devils into places of
darkness and torment. But Friar John, together with those others that had
drunk all the cup, were translated by angels into a place of eternal life and
light and beatific splendour. And the aforesaid Friar James that beheld the
84 FRIAR JOHN
vision, discerned and understood particularly and distinctly all he saw touching
the names and conditions and state of each one, and that clearly. And so
mightily did that storm prevail against the tree that it fell : and the wind
bore it away. And then, no sooner had the storm ceased, than from the
root of this tree, which was all of gold, another tree sprung up all of gold,
that put forth golden leaves and flowers and fruit. Touching which tree
and the growth and the deep roots thereof, the beauty and fragrance and
virtue, 'twere fitter to keep silence than to tell thereof at this season.
CHAPTER XLIX
How Christ appeared to Friar John of ~La Verna
Among the other wise and holy friars and sons of St. Francis who, according
as Solomon saith, are the glory of their father, there lived in our time in the
province of the Marches the venerable and holy Friar John of Fermo ; and
he, for that he sojourned a long time in the holy place of La Verna and
there passed from this life, was likewise called Friar John of La Verna ;
and he was a man of great and singular holiness of life. This Friar John,
while yet a boy in the world, desired with all his heart to follow the way
of penance that ever preserveth the purity of the body and of the soul.
Wherefore, when he was quite a little child, he began to wear a breastplate
of mail and iron rings on his naked flesh, and to practise great abstinence ;
and above all, when he abode with the canons of St. Peter's at Fermo, who
fared sumptuously, he eschewed all carnal delights, and mortified his body
with great and severe fastings ; but his companions, being much set against
these things, took from him his breastplate and thwarted his abstinence in
divers ways ; wherefore he purposed, being inspired of God, to forsake the
world and those that loved worldly things and cast himself wholly into the
arms of the Crucified with the habit of the crucified St. Francis ; and this
he did. And being thus received into the Order while yet a boy, and
committed to the care of the master of the novices, he became so spiritual and
devout, that hearing the master once discoursing of God, his heart was melted
as wax before a fire ; and with such exceeding sweetness of grace was he
kindled by divine love, that unable to remain still and endure such great
sweetness, he arose, and as one inebriated with spiritual things, ran hither and
OF LA VERNA 85
thither, now in the garden, now in the wood, now in the church, according as
the fire and spur of the spirit drave him. Then in process of time this angelic
man, by divine grace, so continually increased from virtue to virtue, and in
celestial gifts and divine exaltation and rapture, that at one time his soul was
lifted up to the splendours of the cherubim, at another to the flaming seraphim,
yet another to the joys of the blessed ; yea, even to the loving and ineffable
embraces of Christ. And notably, on a time, his heart was so mightily kindled
by the flames of love divine, that this flame endured full three years, in which
time he received wondrous consolations and divine visitations, and ofttimes was
he rapt in God ; and for a brief space, in the said time, he seemed all aflame
and burning with the love of Christ ; and this was on the holy mount of
La Verna. But forasmuch as God hath singular care of His children, and
giveth them according to divers seasons, now consolation, now tribulation, now
prosperity, now adversity, even as He seeth their need, either to strengthen
them in humility, or to kindle within them greater desire for celestial things,
it pleased divine goodness to withdraw, after three years, from the said Friar
John this ray and this flame of divine love, and to deprive him of all spiritual
consolation. Whereat Friar John remained bereft of the light and the love
of God, and all disconsolate and afflicted and sorrowing. Wherefore, in this
anguish of heart, he wandered about the wood, running to and fro, calling with
a loud voice and with tears and sighs on the beloved spouse of his soul, who had
withdrawn and departed from him, and without whose presence his soul found
neither peace nor rest. But in no place nor in any wise could he find the
sweet Jesus again, nor taste again, as he was wont to do, of those sweetest
spiritual savours of the love of Christ. And the like tribulation he endured
many days, wherein he persevered continually in tears and sighs, and in supplica-
tion to God, that of His pity He would restore to him the beloved spouse of
his soul. At the last, when it had pleased God to prove his patience enough
and fan the flame of his desire, on a day, as Friar John was wandering about
the said wood, thus afflicted and tormented, he sat him down a-wearied and
leaned against a beech tree, and with his face all bathed in tears gazed towards
heaven ; and behold, Jesus Christ appeared suddenly nigh to him, in the path
whereby this Friar John had come, but spake no word. And Friar John,
beholding Him and knowing full well that it was the Christ, straightway
flung himself at His feet, and with piteous tears entreated Him most humbly
and said, " Help me, my Lord, for without Thee, O my sweetest Saviour, I
wander in darkness and in tears ; without Thee, most gentle Lamb, I dwell in
86 FRIAR JOHN
anguish and in torments and in fear ; without Thee, Son of God, most high,
I remain in shame and confusion ; without Thee I am stripped of all good, and
blind, for Thou art Christ Jesus, true light of souls ; without Thee I am lost
and damned, for Thou art the Life of souls and Life of life ; without Thee I
am barren and withered, for Thou art the fountain of every good gift and of
every grace ; without Thee I am wholly disconsolate, for Thou art Jesus our
Redeemer, our love and our desire, the Bread of consolation and the Wine that
rejoiceth the hearts of the angels and of all the saints. Let Thy light shine
upon me, most gracious Master, and most compassionate Shepherd, for I am
Thy little sheep, unworthy tho' I be." But because the desires of holy men,
which God delayeth to grant, kindle them to yet greater love and merit, the
blessed Christ departed without hearing him, without uttering one word, and
went away by the said path. Then Friar John rose up and ran after Him, and
again fell at His feet, and with holy importunity held Him back and entreated
Him, with devoutest tears, saying, " O Jesus Christ, most sweet, have mercy on
me in my tribulation ; hear me by the multitude of Thy mercies, and by the
verity of Thy salvation restore to me the joy of Thy countenance and of Thy
pitying eye, for all the earth is full of Thy mercy." And again Christ departed
and spake him no word, nor gave aught of consolation, and did after the way
of a mother with her child, when she maketh him to yearn for the breast, and
causeth him to follow after her, weeping, that he may take it the more
willingly. Whereupon Friar John, yet again, with greater fervour and desire,
followed Christ, and no sooner had he come up to Him than the blessed Christ
turned round to him, and looked upon him with joyful and gracious counte-
nance ; then opening His most holy and most merciful arms; He embraced
him very sweetly, and as He thus opened His arms, Friar John beheld rays of
shining light coming from the Saviour's most holy breast, that illumined all
the wood, and himself likewise, in soul and body. Then Friar John kneeled
down at the feet of Christ ; and the blessed Jesus, even as He did to the
Magdalen, graciously held forth His foot that he might kiss it ; and Friar
John, taking it with highest reverence, bathed it with so many tears that he
verily seemed to be a second Magdalen, and devoutly said, " I pray Thee, my
Lord, that Thou regard not my sins, but by Thy most holy Passion, and by
the shedding of Thy most holy and precious blood, Thou mayst make my
soul to live again in the grace of Thy love, forasmuch as this is Thy command-
ment : that we love Thee with all our hearts and all our affections, which
commandment none can keep without Thy aid. Help me, then, most beloved
OF LA VERNA 87
Son of God, that I may love Thee with all my heart and with all my might."
And Friar John, standing as he thus spake at the feet of Christ, was heard of
Him, and he regained the former state of grace, to wit, the flame of divine love,
and he felt himself all consoled and renewed ; and when he knew that the gift
of divine grace was restored to him, he began to give thanks to Christ the
blessed and to kiss His feet devoutly. And then, rising up to gaze on the face
of Christ, Jesus Christ stretched forth and offered him His most holy hands to
kiss. And when Friar John had kissed them, he drew nigh and leaned on
Christ's bosom and embraced Him and kissed Him, and Christ likewise
embraced and kissed him. And in these embraces and kisses Friar John
perceived such divine fragrance, that if all the sweet-smelling spiceries and
all the most fragrant things in the world had been gathered together, they
would have seemed but a stink compared with that fragrance ; and thereby
was Friar John ravished and consoled and illumined ; and that fragrance
endured in his soul many months. And thenceforward there issued from his
mouth, that had drunk at the fountain of divine wisdom in the sacred breast of
the Saviour, words so wondrous and so heavenly, that they changed all hearts
and brought forth great fruit in the souls of those that heard him. And in the
pathway of the wood, whereon the blessed feet of Christ had trod, and for a
good space round about, Friar John perceived that same fragrance and beheld
that splendour for a long time thereafter, whensoever he went thither. And
Friar John, coming to himself after that rapture and after the bodily presence
of Christ had vanished, remained so illumined in his soul and in the abyss of
the divine nature, that albeit he was not a learned man by reason of human
study, nevertheless, he solved wondrously and made plain the most subtle and
lofty questions touching the divine Trinity and the profound mysteries of the
Holy Scriptures. And many times thereafter, when speaking before the pope
and the cardinals and the king, and barons and masters and doctors, he set
them all in great amaze at the lofty words and most profound judgments he
uttered.
CHAPTER L
How Friar John of La Verna, while saying Mass on All Souls' Day, beheld
many souls set free from Purgatory
On a time when Friar John was saying mass, the day after All Saints, for the
souls of all the dead, according as the church hath ordained, he offered up with
88 FRIAR JAMES
such great affection and charity and with such pitying compassion that most
high sacrament (which, by reason of its efficacy, the souls of the dead desire
above all other benefits we can bestow upon them), that he seemed all melted
with the sweetness of pity and of brotherly love. Wherefore, as he devoutly
elevated the body of Christ in that mass and offered it up to God the Father,
and prayed that, for love of His beloved Son, Jesus Christ, who was nailed on
the cross to redeem souls, He would be pleased to deliver from the pains of
purgatory the souls of the dead by Him created and redeemed, he straightway
beheld a multitude of souls, well-nigh infinite, come forth from purgatory, after
the manner of countless sparks issuing from a fiery furnace ; and he beheld
them ascend to heaven through the merits of Christ's Passion, that each day
is offered up for the living and the dead in that most sacred Host which is
worthy to be worshipped world without end.
CHAPTER LI
Of the Holy Friar James of Fa/terone, and how after his Death he appeared
to Friar "John of ha Verna
At the time when Friar James of Falterone, a man of great holiness, lay
grievously sick at the friary of Moliano in the custody of Fermo, Friar John
of La Verna, who then abode in the friary of La Massa, heard of his sickness ;
and, for that he loved him as a dear father, he betook himself to pray for him,
devoutly beseeching God with all his heart that if it were good for his soul
He would restore him to health of body. And while thus devoutly praying
he was rapt in ecstasy, and beheld in the air, above his cell in the wood, a
great host of angels and saints, of such dazzling splendour that the whole
country round about was illumined thereby ; and in the midst of these angels
he beheld this sick Friar James, for whom he was praying, all resplendent in
pure white robes. He saw likewise among them the blessed Father, St. Francis,
adorned with the sacred stigmas of Christ and with much glory. And he
beheld also and knew the saintly Friar Lucido, and the aged Friar Matthew
of Monte Rubbiano, and many other friars that in this life he had never seen
nor known. And as Friar John was thus gazing, with great delight, on that
blessed company of saints, it was revealed to him that of a surety the soul of
that sick friar was saved, and that he was to die of that sickness ; but that he
OF FA LT ERO NE 89
was not to ascend straightway after his death to paradise, for that it behoved
him to purge himself a while in purgatory. At this revelation Friar John
felt such exceeding joy because of the salvation of his soul, that he grieved not
for the death of the body, but with great sweetness of spirit called him within
himself, saying, " Friar James, sweet father mine ; Friar James, sweet brother ;
Friar James, faithfullest servant and friend of God ; Friar James, companion
of the Angels and consort of the blessed ! " and in this certitude and joy he
came to himself again. And anon he departed from that place and went to
visit the said Friar James at Moliano, and finding the sickness so heavily upon
him that scarce could he speak, he announced to him the death of the body
and the salvation and glory of his soul, according to the certitude he had had
by divine revelation. Whereat Friar James rejoiced greatly in spirit and in
countenance, and received him with great gladness, and with jocund mien
gave thanks to him for the good tidings he had brought, commending himself
devoutly to him. Then Friar John besought him dearly that he would return
to him after his death and speak to him of his state : and Friar James promised
this, if God so pleased. These words said, the hour of his passing away drew
nigh, and Friar James began to recite devoutly that verse from the Psalms :
In pace in idipsum dormìam et requiescam, which is to say, " I will both lay me
down in peace and sleep." This verse said, he passed from this life with glad
and joyful countenance. And after he was buried, Friar John returned to the
friary of La Massa and waited for the promise of Friar James, that he would
return to him on the day he had said. But while he was at prayer on that
day, Christ appeared to him with a great company of angels and saints, and
among them Friar James was not : whereupon Friar John, marvelling greatly,
commended him devoutly to Christ. Then on the day following, as Friar
John was praying in the wood, Friar James appeared to him accompanied by
the angels, all glorious and all glad ; and Friar John said to him, " O dearest
father, wherefore hast thou not returned to me the day that thou didst
promise ? " Friar James answered, " Because I had need of some purgation ;
but in that same hour when Christ appeared to thee, and thou didst commend
me to Him, Christ heard thee and delivered me from all pain. And then I
appeared to the holy lay Friar James of La Massa, who was serving mass, and
saw the consecrated Host, when the priest elevated it, converted and changed
into the form of a living child most fair ; and I said to him, ' This day do I
go with that child to the realm of life eternal, whither none can go without
him.' " These words said, Friar James vanished and went to heaven with all
M
9>o FRIAR JOHN
that blessed company of angels ; and Friar John remained much comforted.
And the said Friar James of Falterone died on the vigil of St. James the
Apostle, in the month of July, in the aforesaid friary of Moliano, wherein,
through his merits, divine goodness wrought many miracles after his death.
CHAPTER LII
Of the Vision of Friar John of La Verna wherein he knew all the Order
of the Holy Trinity
The aforesaid Friar John of La Verna, for that he had wholly smothered all
worldly and temporal joys and consolations, and in God had placed all his joys
and all his hopes, the divine goodness gave him wondrous consolations and
revelations, and, above all, in the solemn festivals of Christ ; wherefore on a
time when the feast of the Nativity was drawing nigh, whereon he had the
expectancy of certain consolation from God in the sweet humanity of Christ,
the Holy Spirit set in his mind such exceeding great love and fervour for
the charity of Christ in that He had abased Himself to take our humanity
upon Him, that it verily seemed to him as were his soul ravished from his
body, and that it burned like a furnace. And being unable to endure this
burning, and being in sore distress of soul, he cried out with a loud voice ;
for by the power of the Holy Spirit and by the exceeding fervour of his
love he could not withhold his cry. And at the hour when that consuming
fervour came upon him, there came withal so strong and sure a hope of his
salvation, that in no wise could he believe that, had he then died, he would
need to pass through the pains of purgatory ; and this love endured within him
full six months, albeit that excessive fervour possessed him not continuously,
but came upon him only at certain hours of the day, and then in these times
he received wondrous visitations and consolations from God. And ofttimes
was he wrapt in ecstasy, even as that friar saw who first wrote down these
things ; among which, one night, he was so lifted up and rapt in God that
he beheld in Him, the Creator, all created things in heaven and on earth, and
all their perfections and degrees and their several orders. And then he per-
ceived clearly how every created thing was related to its Creator, and how
God is above, is within, is without, is beside all created things. Thereafter
he perceived one God in three Persons, and three Persons in one God, and
OF LA VERNA 91
the infinite love that made the Son of God become flesh in obedience to the
Father. And at the last he perceived, in that vision, how that no other way
was there whereby the soul might ascend to God and have eternal life save
through the blessed Christ, who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life of the
soul.
CHAPTER LIII
How Friar "John of ha Verna, while saying Ma ss, fell down as one deaa
On a time, as the friars that were present were wont to tell, a wondrous
case befell the said Friar John in the aforesaid friary of Moliano ; for, on
the first night after the octave of St. Lawrence, and within the octave of
the Assumption of Our Lady, having said matins in church with the other
friars, and the unction of divine grace falling upon him, he went forth into
the garden to meditate on the Passion of Christ and to prepare himself, with
all devotion, to celebrate the mass that it was his turn to sing that morning.
And while he was meditating on the words of the consecration of the body of
Christ, to wit, while he was considering the infinite love of Christ, and that
He had been willing to redeem us, not only with His precious blood, but
likewise to leave us His most worthy body and blood for food of souls, the
love of sweet Jesus began so to wax within him, and with such great fervour
and tenderness, that his soul could no longer endure such sweetness ; and he
cried out with a loud voice, and as one inebriate in spirit, ceased not to repeat
to himself, Hoc est corpus meum : for as he spake these words himseemed to
behold the blessed Christ, with the Virgin Mother and a multitude of angels ;
and he was illumined by the Holy Spirit in all the deep and lofty mysteries
of that most high sacrament. And when the dawn was come, he went into
the church, with that same fervour of spirit, and with that same absorption,
and believing he was neither heard nor seen of men, went on repeating those
words ; but there was a certain friar at prayer in the choir that saw and heard
all. And, unable to contain himself in that fervour of spirit by reason of the
abundance of grace divine, he cried out with a loud voice, and so continued
until the hour of mass was come. Wherefore he went to vest himself for the
altar. And when he began the mass, the farther he proceeded the more the
love of Christ and that fervour of devotion increased within him, whereby an
ineffable sense of God's presence was given to him, which he could neither
92 FRIAR JOHN
comprehend nor thereafter express with his lips. Wherefore, fearing lest that
fervour and sense of God's presence should so wax within him that he must
needs leave the altar, he fell into great perplexity, and knew not what he
should do — whether to go on with the mass, or stay and wait. But, forasmuch
as at other times a like case had befallen him, and the Lord had so far tempered
that fervour that he had needed not to leave the altar, he trusted He might
do the like this time ; so he set himself with fear and trembling to go forward
with the mass : and when he came as far as the preface of the " Our Lady,"
the divine illumination of the gracious sweetness of the love of God began so
to increase within him, that coming to the Qui pridie, scarce could he endure
such ravishing sweetness. At last, when he came to the act of consecration,
and had said the first half of the words over the Host, to wit, Hoc est, in no
wise could he go farther, but only repeated those selfsame words, to wit, Hoc
est enim. And the cause wherefore he could go no farther was, that he felt
and beheld the presence of Christ, with a multitude of angels, whose majesty
he could not endure. And he saw that Christ entered not into the Host, or,
in sooth, that the Host would not become changed into the body of Christ,
except he uttered the other half of the words, to wit, corpus meum. Whereupon,
while he stood thus perplexed and could proceed no farther, the warden and
the other friars, and many lay folk likewise that were in the church hearing
mass, drew nigh to the altar, and were filled with horror when they beheld
and considered the acts of Friar John : and many of them wept through
devotion. At the last, after a great space, to wit, when it pleased God, Friar
John uttered, with a loud voice, Enim corpus meum ; and straightway the form
of the bread vanished, and Jesus Christ the blessed appeared, incarnate and
glorified, in the Host, and showed forth to him the humility and charity that
made Him become incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and that every day maketh
Him to come into the hands of the priest, when he consecrateth the Host :
for which thing he was the more exalted in sweetness and contemplation.
And no sooner had he elevated the consecrated Host and cup than he was
ravished out of himself, and his soul, being lifted up above all bodily senses, his
body fell backwards ; and had he not been held up by the warden that stood
behind him, he had fallen supine on the ground. Whereat the friars hastened
towards him, and the lay folk that were in the church, both men and women ;
and he was carried into the sacristy as one dead ; for his body had grown cold,
and the fingers of his hands were so tightly clenched that scarce could they
be opened or moved. And in this manner he lay between life and death, or
OF LA VERNA 93
ravished, until the hour of tierce ; for it was summer time. And since I,
that was present at all these things, desired much to know what God had
wrought in him, I went straightway to him when his senses had returned to
him, and besought him, for love of God, that he would tell me all things.
Wherefore, because he had great trust in me, he related all to me in order ;
and, among other things, he told me that while meditating on the body and
blood of Jesus Christ before him, his heart was melted like heated wax, and
his flesh seemed to be without bones, in such wise that scarce could he lift up
arm or hand to make the sign of the cross over the Host, or over the cup.
He likewise told me that before he was made a priest, God had revealed to
him that he was to swoon away in the mass ; but seeing that he had since
said many masses, and this thing had not befallen him, he believed the revela-
tion was not of God. And nevertheless, about fifty days before the Assumption
of Our Lady, whereon the aforesaid case befell him, God had again revealed to
him that this thing was to come to pass about the feast of the Assumption ;
but that thereafter he no longer remembered the said vision, or revelation,
made to him by our Lord.
Here endeth the first part of the book of the venerable St. Francis, and of many
of the holy friars his companions. Here followeth the second part concerning the
sacred stigmas.
Touching the Sacred and Holy Stigmas of St. Francis and some Considerations
thereon
In this part we will treat, with devout consideration, of the glorious, sacred,
and hallowed stigmas of our blessed father, St. Francis, that he received from
Christ on the holy mount of La Verna. And forasmuch as the said stigmas
were five, according to the five wounds of our Lord Jesus Christ, this treatise
shall be divided into five considerations.
The first consideration shall be touching the manner of the coming of
St. Francis to the holy mount of La Verna.
The second consideration shall be touching the life he lived, and the
discourse he held with his companions on the said holy mountain.
The third consideration shall be touching the seraphic vision and the
impression of the most holy stigmas.
The fourth consideration shall be, how that St. Francis came down from
94 ROLAND
the mount of La Verna after he had received the sacred stigmas and returned
to St. Mary of the Angels.
The fifth consideration shall be touching certain divers visions and
revelations of the said sacred and hallowed stigmas to holy friars and other
devout persons after the death of St. Francis.
I. Touching the first consideration of the sacred, hallowed stigmas.
Be it known, touching the first consideration, that when St. Francis was
forty-three years of age, in the year one thousand two hundred and twenty-
four, he was inspired by God to set forth from the vale of Spoleto and journey
into Romagna, with Friar Leo his companion ; and as they went they passed
by the foot of the village of Montefeltro, wherein a great banquet and a great
procession were made by reason of the knighting of one of those counts of
Montefeltro. And St. Francis, hearing of this solemn festival and that many
noblemen of divers countries were assembled together there, said to Friar Leo,
" Let us go up thither to this festival, for with God's help we shall gather
some good spiritual fruit." Now among the other nobles that were come
to that festival from the country round about was a certain rich and mighty
nobleman of Tuscany, called Roland of Chiusi di Casentino, who, because of
the wondrous things he had heard of the holiness and of the miracles of
St. Francis, held him in great devotion, and had a very great desire to behold
him and to hear him preach. And St. Francis came up to that village and
entered within, and went to the market-place, where all the host of those
nobles was gathered together, and in fervour of spirit climbed on to a low wall
and began to preach, taking for the text of his sermon these words in the
vulgar tongue —
" A joy to me is every pain,
For I await a greater gain."
And upon this text he preached so devoutly and so profoundly by inspiration
of the Holy Spirit, proving it by divers pains and martyrdoms of the holy
apostles and the holy martyrs, and by the hard penances of the holy confessors,
and the many tribulations and temptations of the holy virgins and other saints,
that all the people stood with eyes and minds lifted up towards him, and
hearkened as if an angel of God were speaking. And among them was the
said Roland, who, touched to the heart by God through the wondrous preach-
ing of St. Francis, was minded to confer and take counsel with him, after the
sermon, touching the state of his soul. Wherefore, the sermon ended, he
drew St. Francis aside and said to him, " O father, fain would I take counsel
OF CHIUSI 95
with thee touching the salvation of my soul." St. Francis answered, " It
pleaseth me well ; but go this morning, honour thy friends that have bidden
thee to this feast, and dine with them, and after thou hast dined, we will speak
together as long as it shall please thee." Roland therefore went away to dine,
and after he had dined, returned to St. Francis and thus conferred and dis-
coursed with him fully, touching the state of his soul. And at last this
Roland said to St. Francis, " I have a mountain in Tuscany most proper for
devout contemplation that is called the mount of La Verna, and is very solitary
and meet for those that desire to do penance in a place far away from the
world, or to lead a solitary life ; and if it so please thee, fain would I give
it to thee and to thy companions for the salvation of my soul." St. Francis,
hearing this bounteous offer of a thing he so much desired, rejoiced with
exceeding great joy, and praising and giving thanks, first to God and then
to Roland, spake to him thus, " Roland, when you are returned to your house
I will send some of my companions to you, and you will show this mountain
to them ; and if it seem to them a proper place for prayer and penance, from
this time forth I accept your charitable offer." This said, St. Francis departed,
and when he had made an end of his journey he returned to St. Mary of the
Angels ; and Roland likewise, when he had celebrated the end of that festival,
returned to his castle that was called Chiusi, and was distant a mile from
La Verna. And St. Francis, being returned to St. Mary of the Angels, sent
forth two of his companions to the said Roland, who, when they were come
to him, received them with the greatest joy and charity. And being fain to
show them the mount of La Verna, he sent with them full fifty men-at-arms
to be their defence against the wild beasts ; and these friars, thus escorted,
ascended to the top of the mountain and sought diligently about, and at the
last they came to a part of the mountain that was meet for a holy place
and most proper for contemplation, in which place was an open plain : this
spot they chose for the habitation of them and of St. Francis, and there, with
the help of the men-at-arms that were in their escort, they made some little
cells of the branches of trees. And thus in the name of God they accepted
and took possession of the mount of La Verna, and of the friary on that
mountain, and departed and returned to St. Francis. And when they were
come to St. Francis they related to him how and in what manner they had
taken a place on the mount of La Verna most meet for prayer and contempla-
tion. Hearing these tidings, St. Francis rejoiced greatly, and praising and
giving thanks to God, spake to these friars with a glad countenance, and said,
96
ST. FRANCIS
"My sons, we are drawing nigh to our lent of St. Michael the Archangel, and
I steadfastly believe that it is God's will we should keep this fast on the mount
of La Verna, that by divine providence hath been prepared for us, in order
that we may merit from Christ the joy of consecrating that blessed mount
to the honour and glory of God and of His Mother, the glorious Virgin
Mary, and the holy angels. This said, St. Francis took with him Friar
Masseo of Marignano d'Assisi, who was a man of great wisdom and great
eloquence ; and Friar Angelo Tancredi of Rieti, who was a very noble gentle-
man, and in the world had been a knight ; and Friar Leo, who was a man
of great simplicity and purity, and therefore much beloved of St. Francis.
And St. Francis with these three friars set himself to pray, and commended
himself and the aforesaid companions to the prayers of the friars that were left
behind ; and then set forth, in the name of Jesus Christ crucified, with those
three to go to the mount of La Verna. And as St. Francis went forth, he
called one of those three companions, and he was Friar Masseo, and spake
to him thus, " Thou, Friar Masseo, shalt be our warden and our superior on
this journey, I say, while we go and remain together ; and thus we will
observe our Rule, for whether we say the office, or discourse of God, or keep
silence, we will take no thought for the morrow, neither what we shall eat,
nor what we shall drink, nor where we shall sleep ; but when the hour of
rest cometh we will beg a little bread, and then will stay our steps and rest
ourselves in the place that God shall prepare for us." Then did these three
companions bow their heads, and making the sign of the cross, journeyed on ;
and the first evening they came to a friary and there lodged. The second
evening, by reason of the bad weather and of being so weary they were not
able to come to a friary, nor to any village, nor to any hamlet, and night
falling after the bad weather, they took refuge in a deserted and ruined church
and there lay down to rest. And while his companions were sleeping, St.
Francis betook himself to prayer, and lo, at the first watch of the night there
came a great host of fiercest devils with a great noise and tumult and began
to do him mighty battle and annoy : for one plucked him here, another there ;
one pulled him down, another up ; one threatened him with one thing, and
one rebuked for another ; and thus in divers ways they strove to disturb his
prayers ; but they could not, for God was with him. And when St. Francis
had endured these assaults of the devils a long space, he began to cry with
a loud voice, " O ye damned spirits, naught can ye avail except in so far as
the hand of God suffereth you : therefore in the name of the omnipotent God
AT LA VERNA 97
I say unto you, do ye unto my body whatsoever is permitted you by God, for
I suffer all willingly, since no greater enemy have I than my body ; therefore,
if ye avenge me of mine enemy, ye do me too great a service." Then the
devils seized him and with great violence and fury began to drag him about
the church and to wreak on him more grievous hurt and annoy than before.
Whereat St. Francis began to cry aloud and say, " My Lord Jesus Christ, I
thank Thee for the great love and charity Thou hast shown toward me ; for
'tis a token of great love when the Lord well punisheth His servant for all
his faults in this world, in order that he be not punished in the next. And
I am prepared to endure joyfully every pain and every adversity that Thou,
my God, art willing to send for my sins." Then the devils, confounded and
vanquished by his constancy and patience, departed, and St. Francis came forth
from the church in fervour of spirit and entered into a wood that was nigh
and betook him to prayer, and with prayers and with tears, and with smitings
of the breast, sought Jesus Christ, the beloved spouse of his soul.
And at last, finding Him in the secret places of his soul, now he spake
with Him reverently as his Lord ; now he gave answer to Him as his Judge ;
again he besought Him as a father, and yet again he reasoned with Him as a
friend. On that night, and in that wood, his companions, after they awoke,
stood hearkening and considering what he was doing, and they beheld and
heard him with tears and cries devoutly entreat God's mercy for sinners. Then
was he heard and seen to bewail, with a loud voice, the Passion of Christ, even
as if he beheld it with corporeal eyes. And in that selfsame night they saw
him praying with his arms held in the form of a cross, and lifted up from the
ground and suspended for a great space, and surrounded by a bright and shining
cloud. And thus he passed all that night in these holy exercises, without
sleep ; and in the morning his companions, knowing that St. Francis, by reason
of the fatigues of that night passed without sleep, was very feeble in body, and
would have ill borne to go afoot, went to a poor peasant of that country-side,
and, for love of God, craved the loan of his ass for St. Francis, their father, that
could not go afoot. This man, hearing the name of Friar Francis, asked of
them, " Are ye of those friars of that friar of Assisi whereof so much good is
told ? " The friars answered, " Yea," and that verily it was for him they
craved the sumpter beast. Then this honest fellow saddled the ass with great
devotion and solicitude, and led him to St. Francis, and with great reverence
bade him mount thereon ; and so they went their way, the peasant with them,
behind his ass. And after they had journeyed on a while, the peasant said to
N
98
ST. FRANCIS
St. Francis, " Tell me, art thou that Friar Francis of Assisi ? " And St. Francis
answered, " Yea." " Now strive, then," said the peasant, " to be as good as
thou art held to be by all folk, for many have great faith in thee ; therefore I
admonish thee that thou betray not the hopes men cherish of thee." St.
Francis, hearing these words, disdained not to be admonished by a peasant, nor
said within himself, " What beast is this that doth admonish me ? " as many
proud fellows that wear the cowl would say nowadays, but straightway flung
himself off the ass and alighted on the ground and knelt down before him, and
kissed his feet, and humbly thanked him for that he had deigned to admonish
him thus charitably. Then the peasant, together with the companions of
St. Francis, raised him up from the ground, with great devotion, and set him
again on the ass and journeyed on. And when they had climbed about half-way
up the mountain, a great thirst came upon this peasant, for the heat was very
great, and toilsome the ascent ; whereat he began to cry behind St. Francis,
saying, " Ah me ! I die of thirst, for if I have not water to drink I shall
forthwith choke." Wherefore St. Francis got down from the ass and fell to
prayer, and so long he knelt, with hands lifted up to heaven, until he knew
by revelation that his prayer was heard of God. Then said St. Francis to the
peasant, " Haste ; hie thee quickly to that rock, there shalt thou find running
water that Jesus Christ in this hour hath, in His mercy, made to issue from
that rock." Now runs he to the place that St. Francis had shown to him, and
there finds a fair spring which St. Francis, by virtue of his prayers, had made
to gush forth from that hard rock ; and he drank thereof abundantly, and was
comforted. And well it appeareth that that spring was made to flow by God
miraculously, at the prayers of St. Francis, for neither before nor after was
ever a spring of water seen in that place, nor running water near that place for
a great distance. This done, St. Francis, with his companions, and with the
peasant, gave thanks to God for the miracle He had shown them, and then
journeyed on. And when they were come nigh to the foot of the very rock of
La Verna, it pleased St. Francis to rest a while under the oak tree that stood
by the way, and there standeth to this day ; and resting beneath it, St. Francis
began to consider the situation of the place and of the country round about.
And lo, while he was thus pondering there came a great multitude of birds
from divers parts that, with singing and fluttering of their wings, showed forth
great joy and gladness, and surrounded St. Francis, in such wise that some
settled on his head, some on his shoulders, and some on his arms, some on his
bosom, and some around his feet. His companions and the peasant, beholding
AT LA VERNA 99
this, marvelled greatly, and St. Francis rejoiced in spirit, and spake thus, " I do
believe, dearest brothers, that it is pleasing to our Lord Jesus Christ that we
abide on this solitary mountain, since our sisters and brothers, the birds, show
forth such great joy at our coming." These words said, they rose up and
journeyed on ; and at last they came to the place that his companions had
taken at first. And this is all that concerns the first consideration, to wit, how
St. Francis came to the holy mount of La Verna.
II. Touching the second consideration of the sacred, hallowed stigmas.
The second consideration is touching the discourse of St. Francis with his
companions on the said mount of La Verna. And as for this, be it known
that when Roland heard that St. Francis, with his three companions, had gone
up to dwell on the mount of La Verna, he rejoiced exceedingly, and the day
following set forth with many of his friends, and came to visit St. Francis ;
and they brought with them bread and wine, and other necessaries of life for
him and his companions. And when they came to the top of the mountain
they found them at prayer, and drawing nigh, gave them salutation. Then
St. Francis rose up and received Roland and his company with great joy and
love ; and this done, they began to discourse together. And after they had
discoursed a while, and St. Francis had thanked Roland for the holy mountain
he had given them, and for his coming, he besought him to have a poor little
cell built at the foot of a very fair beech tree that stood about a stone's-throw
from the friary ; for that seemed to him a place most solemn and meet for
prayer. And anon Roland had it made ; and this done St. Francis, seeing
that the evening was drawing nigh, and it was time to depart, preached to
them a little ere they took leave ; and after he had preached and had given
them his blessing, it behoved Roland to depart ; wherefore he called St.
Francis and his companions aside, and said to them, " My dearest friars,
I am not minded that ye should endure any bodily want on this wild mountain
top, and so be less able to give heed to spiritual things. Therefore I desire,
and this I say once for all, that ye send confidently to my house for all things
needful to you, and if ye did not so I should take it very ill of you." This
said, he set forth with his company and returned to his castle. Then St.
Francis made his companions sit down, and instructed them touching the
manner of the life that they, and whoso would desire to live like Religious,
in hermitages, should lead. And, among other things, he laid upon them the
single-minded observance of holy poverty, saying, " Heed not overmuch
Roland's charitable offer, lest ye in any way offend our lady, madonna holy
ioo ST. FRANCIS
Poverty. Be ye sure that the more we despise poverty, the more the world
will despise us, and the greater need we shall suffer ; but if we embrace holy
poverty, full straitly the world will follow after us and feed us abundantly.
God hath called us to this holy Rule of life for the salvation of the world, and
hath made this covenant between us and the world, that we give good example
to the world and the world provide for our needs. Let us persevere, then, in
holy poverty, because that is the way of perfection, and the earnest and pledge
of everlasting riches." And after many fair and devout words, and admonitions
of this sort, he made an end, saying, " This is the manner of life that I lay on
myself and on you ; and for that I see me drawing nigh unto death, I purpose
to withdraw to a solitary place and make my peace with God, and weep for
my sins before Him ; and let Friar Leo, when it shall seem good to him,
bring me a little bread and water, and on no. account to suffer any lay folk to
come to me : do ye answer them for me." These words said, he gave them
his blessing, and went to the cell under the beech tree, and his companions
remained in their habitation with the steadfast purpose to obey the commands
of St. Francis. A few days thereafter, as St. Francis was standing beside the
said cell, considering the form of the mountain, and marvelling at the exceed-
ing great clefts and caverns in the mighty rocks, he betook himself to prayer ;
and then it was revealed to him by God that these clefts, so marvellous, had
been miraculously made at the hour of the Passion of Christ, when, according
to the gospel, the rocks were rent asunder. And this, God willed, should
manifestly appear on the mount of La Verna, because there the Passion of our
Lord Jesus Christ was to be renewed, through love and pity, in the soul of
St. Francis, and in his body by the imprinting of the sacred, hallowed stigmas.
No sooner had St. Francis received that revelation than he forthwith shut
himself in his cell, and retired wholly into himself, and made him ready for
the mystery of this revelation, and from that hour St. Francis, through his
unceasing prayers, began to taste more often of the sweetness of divine con-
templation ; wherefore many times was he so rapt in God that he was seen
of his companions to be lifted up bodily from the ground and ravished out of
himself. And in these contemplative ecstasies, not only were things present
and future revealed to him, but likewise the secret thoughts and appetites of
the friars, even as Friar Leo, his companion, made proof of that day. Now
to this Friar Leo, while enduring a mighty temptation of the devil, and not
a carnal one, but a spiritual one, there came a great desire to have some
pious words written by the hand of St. Francis ; for he thought within
AT LA VERNA 101
himself, that if he had them, that temptation would leave him, either wholly
or in part ; yet, through shame or reverence, he had not the heart to tell of
this desire to St. Francis. But the desire that Friar Leo spake not of, was
revealed by the Holy Spirit to St. Francis : whereat he called Friar Leo to
him, and made him bring pen and ink and paper, and with his own very hand
did write a laud of Christ, according to the friar's desire. And at the end
thereof he made the letter Tau,1 and he gave the writing to him, saying,
" Dearest friar, take this paper and keep it diligently until thy death. God
bless thee and keep thee from all temptation. Be not afraid that thou art
tempted, for the more thou art assailed by temptations the greater friend and
servant of God do I hold thee, and the greater love do I bear thee. Verily
I say unto thee, let no man deem himself the perfect friend of God until he
have passed through many temptations and tribulations." When Friar Leo
received this writing, with exceeding devotion and faith, straightway every
temptation departed, and returning to the friars, he related to them, with
great joy, what grace God had bestowed upon him when he received that
writing from St. Francis ; and putting it away and keeping it diligently, the
friars wrought many miracles by means thereof.2 And from that hour the
said Friar Leo began to watch closely and meditate with great purity and
good intent on the life of St. Francis ; and because of his purity it was
vouchsafed to him many times and oft, to behold St. Francis rapt in God and
lifted up from the earth : sometimes to the height of three cubits, sometimes
four, sometimes as high as the top of the beech tree ; and sometimes he saw
him lifted up in the air so high, and surrounded by such dazzling splendour,
that scarce could the eye behold him. Now what was this simple friar wont
to do when St. Francis was lifted up but a little space from the earth so that
he could reach him ? He went softly and embraced his feet and kissed them,
and said, in tears, " My God, have mercy on me, a sinner, and through the
merits of this holy man give me to find grace with Thee." And one time,
among others, while thus standing beneath the feet of St. Francis, when he
was so far lifted up from the earth that he could not touch him, he saw a
scroll descend from heaven, writ with letters of gold, and rest on the head of
St. Francis ; and on this scroll these words were writ, Behold the Grace of God.
1 See Ezelciel ix. 4 (in the Vulgate). According to St. Jerome, Tau (T), which is the last
letter of the Hebrew alphabet, was used in the Samaritan language to represent the cross, of which
it had the form.
2 This precious relic of St. Francis is still preserved in the sacristy of the great church of
S. Francesco at Assisi.
io2 THE ANGEL OF GOD
And after he had read it he saw it return to heaven. Through this gift of
God's grace within him, St. Francis was not only rapt in God by ecstatic
contemplation, but many times was likewise comforted by visits of angels.
Wherefore, as St. Francis one day was meditating on his death, and on the
state of his Order after his death, and saying, " Lord God, what will become
of Thy poor little household, that Thou of Thy goodness hast committed to
me, a sinner ? Who shall comfort them ? Who shall correct them ? Who
shall pray to Thee for them ? " And while he was uttering such words, the
angel sent of God appeared to him, and comforted him with these words, " I
say unto thee, in God's name, that the profession of thy Order shall not fail
until the Judgment Day ; and none shall be so great a sinner, but that if he
love thy Order in his heart, the same shall find mercy in God's sight ; and
none that evilly persecuteth thy Order shall have length of life. Moreover,
no wicked member of thy Order shall long continue therein, except he amend
his life. Therefore be not cast down if thou seest some that are not good
friars in thy Order, and that observe not the Rule as they ought ; think not
that for this thy Order shall perish ; for ever shall there be of them — and
they shall be many and many — that will observe perfectly the life of the
gospel of Christ, and the purity of the Rule ; and such as these shall go
straightway to life everlasting after the death of the body, without passing
through any purgatory. And some shall observe the Rule, but not perfectly ;
and they, ere they go to paradise, shall pass through purgatory, but the time
of their purgation shall be committed to thee by God. But touching those
that observe not the Rule at all — have no care of them, saith God, because
He careth not." These words said, the angel departed, and St. Francis re-
mained comforted and consoled. As the feast of the Assumption of Our Lady
was now drawing nigh, St. Francis seeketh the opportunity of a more solitary
and more secret place, wherein he may keep the fast of St. Michael the Arch-
angel, that beginneth with the said feast of the Assumption. Wherefore he
calls Friar Leo, and speaks to him thus, " Go and stand at the doorway of
the oratory of the friary, and when I call thee do thou return to me." Friar
Leo goes and stands at the doorway, and St. Francis withdrew a space and
called loudly. Hearing himself called, Friar Leo returns to him, and St.
Francis saith, " Son, let us seek a more secret place, whence thou canst not
hear me when I call." And, in their search, they caught sight of a secret
place on that side of the mountain that looketh to the south, and only too
meet for his purpose ; but they could not get there, because in front thereof
VISITS ST. FRANCIS 103
was a horrible and fearful and very great chasm in the rock ; wherefore, with
great labour, they laid some logs across this chasm, after the manner of a
bridge, and passed over. Then St. Francis sent for the other friars, and tells
them how that he purposed to keep the lent of St. Michael in that solitary
place, and therefore prays them to make a little cell there, so that no call of
his might be heard by them. And the little cell of St. Francis being made,
he saith to them, " Go ye to your dwelling, and leave me here alone, for with
God's help I purpose to keep the fast here, with mind undistraught or un-
perturbed : therefore let none of you come to me, nor suffer any worldly folk
to come to me. But thou only, Friar Leo, shalt come to me, once a day,
with a little bread and water, and once again, by night, at the hour of matins :
then shalt thou come to me in silence, and when thou art at the foot of the
bridge thou shalt say to me, Domine labia mea aperies, and if I answer ' Come,'
pass thou on to the cell, and we will say matins together ; but if I answer
not, return thou straightway." And St. Francis said this because sometimes
he was so rapt in God that he neither heard nor perceived aught with his
bodily senses. This said, St. Francis gave them his blessing, and they returned
to the friary. And the feast of the Assumption being come, St. Francis began
the holy fast with great abstinence and severity, mortifying his body and
comforting his spirit with fervent prayers, watchings, and scourgings ; and
ever waxing from virtue to virtue in these prayers, he made ready his soul to
receive the divine mysteries and divine splendours, and his body to endure the
cruel assaults of the devils, wherewith he was ofttimes smitten corporeally ;
and among other times, on a day during that fast, as St. Francis issued from
his cell in fervour of spirit, and went to pray hard by in a hollow cave in the
rock, at a great height from the ground and looking on a horrible and fearful
abyss, suddenly the devil cometh in a terrible form, with tempest and mighty
ruin, and smiteth him to thrust him down the abyss. Whereat St. Francis,
having no whither to flee, and being unable to suffer the cruel aspect of the
devil, anon turned with hands and face and all his body close to the rock,
commending himself to God, and groping about with his hands, if haply he
might find aught to cling to. But, as it pleased God, who never letteth His
servants be tempted beyond what they can endure, straightway the rock,
whereto he clung, was hollowed out by a miracle to the form of his body,
and received him into itself, in such wise that the said rock was imprinted
with the form of the face and the hands of St. Francis, as if he had pressed
his hands and face against melted wax ; and thus, with God's help, he escaped
io4 ST. FRANCIS SEES
from the devil. But what the devil was unable to do then to St. Francis, to
wit, thrust him down thence, was done a long time after the death of St.
Francis to one, a dear and devoted friar, who was at that place, laying down
some planks of wood, in order that he might go thither without peril, out of
devotion to St. Francis, and in memory of the holy miracle there wrought ;
for on a day, as he was carrying a big log of wood on his head to lay across
the chasm, he was pushed by the devil and thrust down and made to fall with
that log on his head. But God, who had saved and preserved St. Francis
from falling, saved and preserved that devout friar by his merits from the peril
of his fall ; for as the friar was falling he commended himself with a loud
voice and with great devotion to St. Francis ; and he straightway appeared to
him, and grasping him, placed him down on the rocks, so that he felt neither
shock nor wound. But the other friars, having heard the cry of this friar as
he fell, and deeming him dead, and all dashed to pieces on the sharp rocks
by the great depth of his fall, took up the bier, and with great grief and many
tears went to the other side of the mountain to seek the fragments of his body
and bury them. And when they were come down to the foot of the rock, lo,
that friar who had fallen, met them, carrying the log on his head and singing
Te Deum laudamus with a loud voice. And seeing the friars marvel greatly, he
related to them, in order, all the manner of his fall, and how St. Francis had
delivered him from all peril. Then all the friars came with him together to
that place, singing most devoutly the aforesaid psalm, Te Deum laudamus,
praising and giving thanks to God, and to St. Francis, for the miracle he had
wrought for one of his friars.
St. Francis then, as hath been told, persevered in that fast, and albeit he
endured many assaults of the devil, none the less did he receive many consola-
tions from God, not only by visits of angels, but likewise of wild birds ; for all
the time of that lent, a falcon that had built her nest hard by his cell awoke
him every night, a little before matins, by her singing and by beating her wings
against his cell, and she departed not until he had risen up to say matins. And
when St. Francis was more weary at one time than another, or more sick, or
more feeble, this falcon, after the manner of a discreet and compassionate person,
sang later. And so St. Francis had great joy of this clock ; for the great
solicitude of this falcon drove all sloth away from him and urged him to
prayer, and beyond this, she ofttimes by day dwelt familiarly with him.
Finally, as to this second consideration, St. Francis, being much weakened in
body, in part by his great abstinence, and in part by the assaults of the devil,
THE DIVINE VISION 105
and being fain to comfort his body with the spiritual food of the soul, began to
meditate on the ineffable glory and joy of the blessed in the life eternal ; and
he began to beseech God to grant him the grace of some foretaste of that joy.
And while he remained thus meditating, anon an angel appeared to him with
exceeding great splendour, who held a viol in his left hand and a bow in his
right ; and as St. Francis stood all dazed at this vision, the angel drew his bow
once upwards across the viol ; and straightway St. Francis heard such sweet
melody that it ravished his soul and lifted him beyond all bodily sense, so that,
as he afterwards related to his companions, he doubted lest his soul had wholly
parted from his body, by reason of the unbearable sweetness, if the angel had
drawn the bow downwards again. And this is all that concerneth the second
consideration.
III. Touching the third consideration of the sacre a \ hallowed stigmas.
Coming to the third consideration, to wit, of the seraphic vision, and of
the imprinting of the sacred, hallowed stigmas, be it known that the feast of
the Most Holy Cross in the month of September drawing nigh, Friar Leo
went one night at the wonted hour to the wonted place, in order to say matins
with St. Francis, and having cried from the foot of the bridge, Domine labia
mia aperies^ as he was used to do, St. Francis did not answer. And Friar Leo
turned not back, as St. Francis had bidden him, but passed over the bridge, with
good and holy intent, and entered softly into his cell, and finding him not,
thought he might be somewhere in the wood at prayer. Whereat he comes
forth and goes about the wood in search of him by the light of the moon.
And at last he heard the voice of St. Francis, and drawing nigh, beheld him
on his knees in prayer with face and hands lifted up to heaven, saying in
fervour of spirit, " Who art Thou, my God most sweet ? What am I, Thy
unprofitable servant and vilest of worms ? " And these self-same words he again
repeated and said naught besides. Whereat Friar Leo, marvelling greatly,
lifted up his eyes and looked heavenward ; and as he looked, he beheld a
flaming torch coming down from heaven, most beautiful and resplendent, which
descended and rested on the head of St. Francis ; and from the said flame he
heard a voice come forth which spake with St. Francis, but the words thereof
this Friar Leo understood not. Hearing this, and deeming himself unworthy
to remain so near the holy place where that wondrous vision was seen, and
fearing likewise to offend St. Francis, or disturb him in his meditation if he
were heard of him, he stole softly back, and standing afar off, waited to see the
end. And as he gazed steadfastly, he beheld St. Francis stretch forth his hands
ioó THE DIVINE VISION
thrice towards the flame ; and at last, after a great space of time, he saw the
flaming torch return to heaven. Whereupon he bestirred himself and returned
secretly to his cell, glad in heart at the vision. And as he was going confi-
dently away, St. Francis heard him by the rustling of the leaves under his feet,
and bade him stay his steps and await him. Then Friar Leo, obedient, stood
still and awaited him, with such great fear that, as he afterwards told his
companions, at that moment he would rather the earth had swallowed him up
than await St. Francis, who he thought would be displeased with him ; for he
guarded himself with the greatest diligence against offending his father, lest
through his own fault St. Francis should deprive him of his companionship.
Then St. Francis as he came up to him, asked, " Who art thou ? " And Friar
Leo, all trembling answered, " I am Friar Leo, my father." And St. Francis
said to him, " Wherefore earnest thou hither, friar, little sheep ? Have I not
told thee not to go spying on me ? Tell me, by holy obedience, if thou didst
see or hear aught ? " Friar Leo answered, " Father, I heard thee speak and
say many times, ' Who art Thou, my God most sweet ? What am I thy
unprofitable servant and vilest of worms ? ' " And then Friar Leo knelt down
before St. Francis and confessed his sin of disobedience, for that he had done
contrary to his commands, craving forgiveness of him with many tears. And
thereafter he entreated him devoutly to interpret to him those words he had
heard, and tell him those he had not understood. Then St. Francis, seeing that
God had revealed to this lowly Friar Leo, because of his purity and simplicity,
or in sooth had suffered him to hear and behold certain things, deigned to
reveal to him and interpret to him all those things he asked of him. And he
spake thus, " Know thou, friar, little sheep of Jesus Christ, that when I was
saying those words that thou didst hear, two lights were shown to me within
my soul — one, the knowledge and understanding of myself; the other, the
knowledge and understanding of the Creator. When I said, ' Who art Thou,
My God most sweet ? ' then was I illumined by the light of contemplation,
whereby I beheld the depths of the infinite goodness and wisdom and power
of God. And when I said, ' What am I, etc. ? ' I was in the light of
contemplation, whereby I beheld the deplorable depths of my own vilcness and
misery ; and therefore I said, ' Who art Thou, Lord, infinite in goodness and
wisdom, that deignest to visit me who am a vile and abominable worm ? '
And God was in that flame thou sawest, who spake to me in that vision even
as of old He had spoken to Moses. And among other things He said, He
asked of me to give Him three gifts ; and I answered, ' My Lord, I am wholly
THE DIVINE VISION 107
Thine ; well Thou knowest I have naught save tunic, cord, and breeches, and
even these three things are Thine ; what, then, can I offer or give unto
Thy Majesty ? ' Then God said, ' Search in thy bosom and offer Me what
thou findest there.' I sought there and found a ball of gold, and this I offered
to God ; and thus did I thrice, according as God had thrice bidden me. And
then thrice knelt I down, and blessed and gave thanks to God who had given
me wherewithal to offer to Him. And straightway it was given me to know
that those three offers signified holy obedience, most exalted poverty, and most
resplendent chastity, which God had vouchsafed to me by His grace to observe
so perfectly that my conscience reproved me of naught. And even as thou
sawest me place my hands in my bosom and offer to God those three virtues
signified by the three balls of gold that God had placed in my bosom, even so
hath God given me this virtue in my soul — that for all the good and for
all the grace He hath bestowed upon me by His most holy goodness, I
ever in my heart and with my lips do praise and magnify Him. These
are the words thou didst hear when thou sawest me lift up my hands
thrice. But beware, friar, little sheep ; go thou not spying upon me, but
return to thy cell with God's blessing, and have diligent care of me : for yet
a few days and God shall work such great and wondrous things on this
mountain that all the world shall marvel thereat ; for He shall do things, new
and strange, such as never hath He done to any creature in this world."
These things said, St. Francis had the book of the gospels brought to him,
for God had put it into his soul that by opening the book of the gospels
thrice, those things that God was pleased to do with him should be shown
forth. And when the book was brought, St. Francis betook himself to prayer,
and the prayer ended, he had the book opened thrice by the hand of Friar
Leo, and in the name of the most holy Trinity ; and even as it pleased the
divine providence, ever in those three openings the Passion of Christ was
displayed to him. Through which thing it was given him to understand
that even as he had followed Christ in the acts of his life, so was he to follow
Him and conform himself unto Him in the afflictions and sorrows of the
Passion, ere he passed from this life. And from that time forth St. Francis
began to taste and feel more bounteously the sweetness of divine contemplation
and of divine visitations. Among which, he had one, immediate and prepara-
tory to the imprinting of the divine stigmas, in this form. The day that
goeth before the feast of the Most Holy Cross in the month of September,
as St. Francis was praying in secret in his cell, the angel of God appeared to
io8 THE DIVINE VISION
him and spake thus to him in God's name, " I am come to comfort and
admonish thee that thou humbly prepare thee and make thee ready, with all
patience, to receive that which God willeth to give thee and to work in thee."
St. Francis answered, " I am ready to endure patiently all things that my
Lord would do with me." This said the angel departed. The day following,
to wit, the day of the Most Holy Cross, St. Francis, on the morn before day-
break, knelt down betimes in prayer before the door of his cell ; and turning
his face eastwards, prayed in this wise, " O my Lord Jesus Christ, two graces
do I pray Thee to grant unto me ere I die : the first, that while I live I may
feel in my body and in my soul, so far as is possible, that sorrow, sweet Lord,
that Thou didst suffer in the hour of Thy bitterest Passion ; the second is,
that I may feel in my heart, so far as may be possible, that exceeding love
wherewith, O Son of God, Thou wast enkindled to endure willingly for us
sinners agony so great." And remaining a long time thus praying, he knew
that God would hear him ; and that, so far as might be possible to a mere
creature, thus far would it be vouchsafed to him to suffer the aforesaid things.
St. Francis, having this promise, began to contemplate most devoutly the
Passion of Christ and His infinite love ; and the fervour of devotion waxed so
within him that through love and through compassion he was wholly changed
into Jesus. And being thus inflamed by this contemplation, he beheld, that
same morning, a seraph with six resplendent and flaming wings come down
from heaven ; which seraph, with swift flight, drew nigh to St. Francis so
that he could discern him, and he knew clearly that he had the form of a man
crucified ; and thus were his wings disposed : two wings were extended over
his head ; two were spread out in flight ; and the other two covered the
whole of the body. St. Francis, beholding this, was sore afraid, and yet was
he filled with sweetness and sorrow mingled with wonder. Joy had he,
exceeding great, at the gracious aspect of Christ that appeared to him thus
familiarly and looked on him so graciously ; but, on the other hand, seeing
him nailed upon the cross, he sufFered unspeakable grief and compassion.
Thereafter, he marvelled greatly at so stupendous and unwonted a vision, well
knowing that the infirmity of the Passion doth not accord with the immortality
of the seraphic spirit. And being in this wonderment, it was revealed by the
seraph who appeared to him, that that vision had been shown to him in such form,
by divine providence, in order that he might understand he was to be changed
into the express similitude of the crucified Christ in this wondrous vision, not
by bodily martyrdom but by spiritual fire. Then the whole mount of La
THE DI FI NE VISION 109
Verna seemed to flame forth with dazzling splendour, that shone and illumined
all the mountains and the valleys round about, as were the sun shining on the
earth. Wherefore when the shepherds that were watching in that country
saw the mountain aflame and so much brightness round about, they were sore
afraid, according as they afterwards told the friars, and affirmed that that flame
had endured over the mount of La Verna for the space of an hour and
more. Likewise, certain muleteers that were going to Romagna, arose up at
the brightness of this light which shone through the windows of the inns of
that country, and thinking the sun had risen, saddled and loaded their beasts.
And as they went their way, they saw the said light wane and the real sun
rise. Now Christ appeared in that same seraphic vision, and revealed to St.
Francis certain secret and high things that St. Francis would never, during
his life, disclose to any man ; but, after his death, he revealed them, according
as is set forth hereafter. And the words were these, " Knowest thou," said
Christ, " what I have done to thee ? I have given thee the stigmas that are
the marks of My Passion, in order that thou be My standard-bearer. And even
as I, on the day of My death, descended into limbo and delivered all the souls
I found there by virtue of these My stigmas, so do I grant to thee that every
year, on the day of thy death, thou mayst go to purgatory and deliver all the
souls thou shalt find there of thy three orders — Minors, Sisters, and Penitents
— and others likewise that shall have had great devotion to thee, and thou
shalt lead them up to the glory of paradise in order that thou be conformed
to Me in thy death, even as thou art in thy life." This wondrous vision
having vanished, after a great space, this secret converse left in the heart of
St. Francis a burning flame of divine love, exceeding great, and in his flesh
a marvellous image and imprint of the Passion of Christ. For the marks of
the nails began anon to be seen on the hands and on the feet of St. Francis,
in the same manner as he had then seen them in the body of Jesus Christ
crucified that had appeared to him in the form of a seraph : and thus his
hands and feet seemed nailed through the middle with nails, the heads whereof
were in the palms of his hands and in the soles of his feet, outside the flesh ;
and the points came out through the backs of the hands and the feet, so far,
that they were bent back and clinched in such wise that one might easily
have put a finger of the hand through the bent and clinched ends outside the
flesh, even as through a ring : and the heads of the nails were round and
black. In like fashion, the image of a lance-wound, unhealed, inflamed, and
bleeding, was seen in his right side, whence thereafter blood came out many
no HOLY STIGMAS
times from the holy breast of St. Francis and stained his tunic and his nether
garments with blood. Wherefore his companions, before they learned these
things from him, perceiving nevertheless that he never uncovered his hands
or his feet, and that he could not put the soles of his feet to the ground, and
finding thereafter that his tunic and nether garments were all bloody when
they washed them, knew of a surety that he had the image and similitude of
our Lord Jesus Christ crucified, expressly imprinted on his hands and feet,
and likewise on his side. And albeit he strove much to conceal and to hide
those glorious, sacred, and hallowed stigmas, thus clearly marked on his flesh ;
yet on the other hand, seeing that he could ill conceal them from his familiar
companions, and fearing to publish abroad the secrets of God, he remained in
great doubt whether he ought to reveal the seraphic vision and the imprint of
the sacred, hallowed stigmas. At last, pricked by conscience, he called to him
certain of his most familiar friars and propounded his doubts to them in general
terms, without giving expression to the fact and asked counsel of them. Now
among these friars was one of great holiness called Friar Illuminatus, and
he, verily illumined by God, understood that St. Francis must have beheld
wondrous things, and answered him thus, " Friar Francis, know that not for
thee alone, but also for others, God showeth to thee at divers times His holy
mysteries ; therefore hast thou reason to fear lest thou be worthy of reproof if
thou keep this thing hidden that God hath shown to thee for profit of others."
Then St. Francis, moved by these words, laid before them, with exceeding
great fear, all the manner and form of the aforesaid vision, and added that
Christ when He appeared to him, had said certain things that he would never
tell while he lived. And albeit those most holy wounds, in so far as they were
imprinted by Christ, gave him great joy in his heart, nevertheless to his flesh
and to his bodily senses they gave unbearable pain. Wherefore, being con-
strained by necessity, he chose Friar Leo, simplest and purest among the friars,
and to him revealed all things ; and he suffered him to see and touch those
holy wounds and bind them with kerchiefs to ease the pain and staunch the
blood that issued and ran therefrom : which bands, at the time of his sickness,
he suffered often to be changed, yea, even every day, save from Thursday
evening to Saturday morning ; for he would not that the pains of the Passion
of Christ, that he bore in his body, should be eased in any way by human
remedies and medicines during the time our Saviour' Jesus Christ had been
taken and, for our sakes, crucified and slain and buried. It befell on a time
when Friar Leo was changing the swathings of the wound in his side, that
HOLY STIGMAS in
St. Francis, by reason of the pain he felt in the loosing of the blood-stained
kerchief, laid his hand on Friar Leo's breast ; and at the touch of those holy
hands, Friar Leo felt such great sweetness of devotion in his heart that, a little
more, and he had fallen swooning on the ground. And finally, as to this third
consideration : St. Francis having completed the forty days' fast of St. Michael
the Archangel, made ready by divine revelation to return to St. Mary of the
Angels. Wherefore he called Friar Masseo and Friar Angelo to him, and after
many words and many holy admonitions, commended the holy mountain to
them with all the zeal in his power, saying that it behoved him, together with
Friar Leo, to return to St. Mary of the Angels. This said, he took leave of
them and blessed them in the name of the crucified Jesus ; and deigned, in
answer to their prayers, to stretch forth to them his most holy hands, adorned
with those glorious and sacred and hallowed stigmas, that they might see them
and touch them and kiss them ; and leaving the friars thus comforted he de-
parted from them and descended the holy mountain.
IV. Touching the fourth consideration of the sacred, hallowed stigmas.
Touching the fourth consideration, be it known, that after the true love
of Christ had perfectly transformed St. Francis into God and into the true
image of Christ crucified, that angelic man, having completed the fast of forty
days in honour of St. Michael the Archangel on the holy mount of La Verna,
came down from the mountain with Friar Leo and a devout peasant on whose
ass he rode, because, by reason of the nails in his feet, he could not well go
a-foot. And when he was come down from the mountain, forasmuch as the
fame of his sanctity was noised abroad throughout the land (because the
shepherds that had seen the mount of La Verna all aflame had said it was a
sign of some great miracle God had wrought on St. Francis), the folk of that
country-side all flocked to behold him as he passed by : men and women,
small and great, all with great devotion and desire, strove to touch him and to
kiss his hands. And St. Francis, being unable to deny his hands to the
devotion of the people, albeit he had bound up the palms, nevertheless bound
them over again, and covered them with his sleeves, and only held forth his
uncovered fingers for them to kiss. But albeit he sought to conceal and hide
the sacred mystery of the holy stigmas, that he might flee all occasion of
worldly glory, it pleased God to show forth many miracles for His own glory,
by virtue of the said sacred, hallowed stigmas, and notably on that journey
from La Verna to St. Mary of the Angels. And very many other miracles
thereafter were wrought in divers parts of the world, both during his life and
in MIRACLES OF
after his glorious death ; and this to the end that their hidden and wondrous
virtue, and the exceeding love and mercy of Christ, so wondrously vouchsafed
to him, might be made manifest to the world through clear and evident
miracles, whereof we here set down a few.
When St. Francis was drawing nigh to a village which was on the
confines of the district of Arezzo, a woman came before him, weeping greatly,
and bearing her son in her arms, that was eight years of age ; and this child
for four years had been sick of the dropsy ; and his belly was so swollen and
so deformed that when he stood up he could not see his feet ; and placing this
child before him, this woman besought St. Francis to pray to God for him.
And St. Francis first betook himself to prayer, and then, the prayer ended, laid
his holy hands on the child's belly, and straightway all the swelling was down,
and he was wholly healed ; and St. Francis gave him back to his mother, who
received him with the greatest joy, and led him home, giving thanks to God
and to St. Francis ; and willingly she showed her son healed to all those of the
country-side that came to her house to behold him. The same day, St. Francis
passed by Borgo di San Sepolcro, and before he came nigh, the crowds there-
from and from the villages made towards him ; and many of them went before
him, bearing olive branches in their hands, crying with a loud voice, " Behold
the saint ! Behold the saint ! " And by reason of the devotion and desire that
the folk had to touch him, they made a great throng and press about him ;
but he went on with mind uplifted and rapt in God, through contemplation ;
and albeit he was touched and held and dragged about, yet as one insensible he
felt naught that was done or said to him ; nay, he perceived not even that he
was passing by that burg or through that land. Wherefore, having passed
through the Borgo, and the crowds being gone to their homes, he came to a
leper house, a good mile beyond, and this celestial contemplative then returned
to himself, as were he come back from another world ; and he asked his
companions, " When shall we be nigh the Borgo ? " For of a truth his soul,
fixed and rapt in contemplation of celestial things, had been sensible of no
earthly thing ; neither variety of place, nor change of time, nor of persons he
passed. And this befell many other times, even as his companions proved by
clear experience. On that evening, St. Francis came to the friary of Monte
Casale, wherein a friar lay so cruelly sick and so horribly tormented by his
sickness that his ill seemed rather a tribulation and torment of the devil than
a natural sickness ; for sometimes he flung himself on the ground in a mighty
trembling and foaming at the mouth ; now he contracted all the limbs of his
ST. FRANCIS 113
body, now he writhed ; now bending back his heels to the nape of his neck,
he sprang high up into the air, and straightway fell again on his back. And
St. Francis, hearing from the other friars, as he sat at table, of this miserably
sick and incurable friar, had compassion on him ; and taking a slice of the
bread he was eating, he made thereon the sign of the most holy cross with his
holy wounded hands, and sent it to the sick friar ; and no sooner had he eaten
thereof than he was perfectly healed, and never more felt that sickness. The
next morning being come, St. Francis sent two of the friars that were in that
house to dwell at La Verna, and sent back with them the peasant that had
followed behind the ass he had lent him, desiring that he should return
home with them. And as the two friars wended their way with the said
peasant into the country of Arezzo, certain men of those parts beheld them
from afar off as they entered the country, and rejoiced, greatly believing that it
was St. Francis who but two days agone had passed that way ; for a woman
among them, who had been in travail three days and unable to give birth to her
child, lay at the point of death, and they thought to have her restored to them
well and free from her labour, if St. Francis placed his hallowed hands upon
her. But when the said friars drew nigh and they perceived it was not
St. Francis they were sorely grieved. Now albeit the saint was not there in
the flesh, his virtue was not lacking since they lacked not faith. Marvellous to
tell ! The woman lay dying, and already the death tokens were seen upon her
when these men asked the friars if they had anything that the most hallowed
hands of St. Francis had touched. And, lo, the friars bethink them and seek
diligently and find nothing that St. Francis had touched with his hand save the
halter of the ass whereon he had come. They take this halter with great
reverence and devotion and place it on the body of the woman in travail,
calling devoutly in the name of St. Francis, and full of faith, commending her
to him. No sooner had the woman felt the said halter upon her when
straightway she was delivered from all peril and joyfully brought forth her
child with ease and with safety. St. Francis, after he had sojourned some days
in that friary, departed and went to Città di Castello. And behold, many of
the townsfolk brought before him a woman that for a long time had been
possessed by a devil, and besought him humbly to deliver her, for that she,
now with grievous howlings, now with cruel shrieks, now with barks like a
dog, disturbed the whole country-side. Then St. Francis having first prayed
and made the sign of the most holy cross over her, commanded the devil to
depart from her, and straightway he departed, leaving her whole in body and
ii4 MIRACLES OF
mind. And this miracle being noised abroad among the people, another
woman, with great faith, brought to him her child, that was grievously sick of
a cruel wound, and devoutly besought him that he would be pleased to make the
sign over him with his hands. Then St. Francis, granting her prayer, takes
this child and unbinds the wound and blesses him, making thrice the sign of
the most holy cross over the wound ; then with his own hand he binds the
wound up again, and restores him to his mother. And because it was evening,
she straightway laid him in his bed to sleep. In the morning she goes to take
her child from the bed and finds the wound unbound, and looks and finds him
perfectly healed, as if he had never had any ill, save that the flesh had grown
over the place where the wound was, in the form of a red rose ; and this was
to bear witness to the miracle rather than in token of the wound ; for the said
rose, remaining there all the days of his life, did oft move him to a special
devotion for St. Francis, who had made him whole. In that same city
St. Francis, at the prayers of the devout townsfolk, abode a month, in which
time he wrought very many other miracles, and departed thence, to go to
St. Mary of the Angels with Friar Leo and an honest fellow that lent him his
ass whereon he rode. Now it befell, that what with the bad roads and what
with the great cold, they could not, even by journeying the whole day, come
to any place where they might lodge. Wherefore, constrained by the darkness
and by the bad weather, they took shelter under the hollow cliff of a rock, to
escape the snow and the darkness that had overtaken them. And being thus
in sorry plight, and but ill sheltered, the man that had lent the ass was unable
to sleep, and having no means of kindling a fire, he began to complain softly
within himself and to weep, murmuring at St. Francis that had brought him to
such a pass. Then St. Francis, hearing this, had compassion on him, and in
fervour of spirit, stretched forth his hand and laid it upon him and touched
him. Marvellous to tell ! no sooner had he touched him with his hand,
pierced and enkindled by the fire of the seraph, than all the cold vanished, and
so much heat warmed him from within and without, that himseemed to be
nigh to a fiery furnace ; wherefore, comforted in body and soul, anon he fell
asleep ; and, according as he was wont to say, he slept all that night till morn,
amid rocks and snow, better than he had ever slept in his own bed. On the
morrow, they journeyed on and came to St. Mary of the Angels ; and when
they were nigh thereto Friar Leo lifted up his eyes and looked towards the
said friary of St. Mary of the Angels ; and he beheld a cross exceeding beautiful,
whereon was the figure of the Crucified, going before St. Francis, who was
ST FRANCIS 115
riding in front of him ; and so closely did that cross conform to the movements
of St. Francis, that when he stopped, it stopped ; and when he went on, it
went on : and that cross shone with such exceeding brightness that not only
did the face of St. Francis shine resplendent, but likewise the whole way
around him was illumined. And that brightness endured even up to the time
that St. Francis entered the friary of St. Mary of the Angels. St. Francis then
being come with Friar Leo, they were received with the greatest joy and
charity, and from that hour St. Francis abode the most of his time in the
friary of St. Mary of the Angels, even until his death. And ever more the
fame of his holiness and of his miracles was spread abroad throughout the
Order and throughout the world, albeit he, of his deep humility, concealed,
so far as he could, the gifts and the graces of God, and called himself
the greatest of sinners. Whereat Friar Leo marvelled, and on a time thought
within himself thus foolishly, " Lo, this man calleth himself in public places
the greatest of sinners ; he is grown great in the Order, and is much honoured
of God ; nevertheless, in secret he never confessed any carnal sin : could he be
a virgin ? " And a very great desire came upon him to know the truth of this
thing ; but he had not dared to ask St. Francis. Wherefore, having recourse
to God, and beseeching with great insistence that He would certify to him,
through the many prayers and the merits of St. Francis, that which he desired
to know, his prayer was heard, and he was certified by a vision that St.
Francis was verily a virgin in body : for in a dream he beheld St. Francis
standing on a high and exalted place, whereunto none could go nor attain ; and
it was revealed to him in spirit that that place, so high and exalted, betokened
in St. Francis the high excellence of virginal chastity, that rightly was in
accord with the flesh that was to be adorned with the sacred, hallowed stigmas
of Christ. Now St. Francis, seeing that by reason of the stigmas of Christ his
bodily strength was little by little ebbing away, and that he could no longer
have care for the government of the Order, hastened to summon the Chapter-
General ; and when all were assembled he humbly excused himself to the
friars for his waning strength, whereby he was no longer able to give heed to
the cares of the Order, nor fill the office of General ; albeit he might lay down
the generalship, for he could not, since he was made General by the pope ;
therefore, he could not leave the office nor appoint another in his place with-
out the express licence of the pope ; but he instituted Friar Peter Cattani as
his vicar, and commended the Order to him and to the ministers of the
provinces with all the affection he could. This done, St. Francis was
no RESIGNATION OF
comforted in spirit, and lifting up his eyes and hands to heaven, spake thus,
" To Thee, my Lord God, to Thee I commend Thy household, that until this
hour Thou hast committed to my charge, and now, because of my infirmities,
whereof Thou knowest, my sweetest Lord, no more can I have the care thereof.
Likewise I commend it to the ministers of the provinces ; let them answer to
Thee for it, on the Day of Judgment, if any friar perish through their negli-
gence, or through their evil example, or through their too harsh correction."
And with these words, as it pleased God, all the friars at the Chapter under-
stood that he spake of the sacred, hallowed stigmas, in that he excused himself
because of his infirmities ; and of their devotion none could henceforth keep
back his tears. And, from that time forth, he left the care and government of
the Order in the hands of his vicar and of the ministers of the provinces, and
then he said, " Now since I have laid aside the cares of the Order, because of
my infirmities, I am henceforth held to naught save to pray to God for our
Order, and to give a good example to the friars. And well I know, and truly,
that if my sickness left me, the greatest aid I could give to the Order would
be to pray unceasingly to God for it, and that He would defend it and guide
it and preserve it." Now, as hath been said above, albeit St. Francis strove
with all his might to conceal the sacred, hallowed stigmas, and, after he had
received them, ever went about or remained with his hands swathed and his feet
shod, it availed not but that many friars, in divers ways, saw and felt them ; and
especially the wound in his side, that he strove to conceal with the greatest
diligence. Wherefore, a friar that served him, craftily contrived on a time to
induce him to take off his tunic, that the dust might be shaken therefrom ;
and it being taken off in his presence, that friar saw clearly the wound in the
side ; and, putting forth his hand quickly, he touched his breast with three
fingers, and felt the width and depth thereof; and in like manner his vicar
saw it at that time. But Friar Ruffino, a man of very great contemplation,
was most clearly certified thereof — he of whom St. Francis said on a time that
there was no saintlier man in the world, and whom, for his holiness, he loved
tenderly and granted to him all he desired — this Friar Ruffino certified himself
and others in three ways of the sacred, hallowed stigmas, and especially of the
wound in the side. The first way was this : The said Friar Ruffino, when he
was about to wash the hose (which St. Francis wore so large that by drawing
them well up he could cover the wound in his right side), was wont to look
at them and consider them diligently ; and every time he did so he found them
stained with blood on the right side ; wherefore he perceived, of a surety, that
ST. FRANCIS 117
blood issued from the said wound : and St. Francis chid him, when he
saw him unfold the clothes he took away from him, in order to see the said
stains. The second way was, that the said Friar Ruffino on a time purposely
put his fingers in the wound in the side, whereat St. Francis, for the pain he
felt, cried out loudly, " God forgive thee, O Friar Ruffino, for that thou hast
done this thing." The third way was, that on a time he craved with great
earnestness that St. Francis would give him his cloak, as an exceeding great
favour, and take his in exchange, for love of charity ; which petition the
charitable father deigned to grant, albeit unwillingly, and took off his cloak
and gave it to him, receiving his in return : and then, as he took it off and put
on the other, Friar Ruffino clearly saw the wound. Friar Leo, likewise, and
many other friars, saw the sacred, hallowed stigmas of St. Francis while he yet
lived : which friars, albeit they were by their holiness worthy of faith, and to be
believed on their simple word, nevertheless, to remove all doubt from men's
hearts, did swear upon the sacred Book that they had clearly seen them.
Certain cardinals likewise saw them that were very familiar with him, and
composed and made fair and devout hymns and antiphones and rhymes out of
reverence for the said sacred and hallowed stigmas of St. Francis. The high
pontiff, Pope Alexander, preaching to the people in the presence of the
cardinals, and among them the saintly Friar Bonaventura, who was a cardinal,
said and affirmed that he had seen with his own eyes the sacred and hallowed
stigmas of St. Francis while he was alive. And the lady Jacqueline of
Settesoli, that in her day was the greatest lady in Rome, and had a very great
devotion to St. Francis, beheld them and kissed them many times with great
reverence, both before he died and after his death ; for she came from Rome
to Assisi, by divine revelation, at the death of St. Francis, and it was in this
wise : St. Francis, some days before his death, lay sick in the bishop's palace
at Assisi with some of his companions ; and notwithstanding his sickness, he
ofttimes sang certain lauds of Christ. On a day, one of his companions said
to him, " Father, thou knowest the men of this city have great faith in thee,
and deem thee a holy man ; and therefore they may think, that if thou art
such as they believe thee to be, thou oughtest in this thy sickness to meditate
on thy death, and weep rather than sing, since thou art so grievously sick ;
and know that this singing of thine, and ours that thou biddest, is heard of
many, both within and without, since this palace is guarded by many men-at-
arms by reason of thy presence, who haply may have evil example thereof.
Wherefore," said this friar, " methinks thou wouldst do well to depart hence
n8 VISIT OF THE
and all we return to St. Mary of the Angels, because it is not well with us
here among worldly men." St. Francis answered, " Dearest brother, thou
knowest that two years now agone, when we were at Foligno, God revealed to
thee the term of my life ; and even so hath He revealed also to me that, yet
a few days and the said term shall end during this sickness ; and in this
revelation God hath certified me that all my sins are remitted, and that I
shall go to paradise. Until that revelation I bewailed my death and my sins ;
but since I had that revelation I am so filled with joy that I can weep no
more ; therefore do I sing, and will sing, to God, that hath given me the joy
of His grace, and hath made me certain of the joys of the glory of paradise.
Touching our departure hence, it pleaseth me well, and I consent thereto ; but
find ye some means to carry me, for by reason of my sickness I cannot walk."
Then the friars took him in their arms, and so carried him, accompanied by
many citizens. And when they came to an hospice that was on the way, St.
Francis said to them that bore him, " Lay me down on the ground, and turn
me towards the city." And when he was laid with his face towards Assisi, he
blessed the city with many blessings, saying, " Blessed be thou of God, holy
city, for many souls shall be saved because of thee, and in thee shall dwell
many of God's servants ; and from thee many shall be chosen to the kingdom
of life everlasting." These words said, he had himself borne towards St. Mary
of the Angels. And when they were come to St. Mary of the Angels they
carried him to the infirmary, and there laid him down to rest. Then St.
Francis called one of his companions to him, and spake to him thus, " Dearest
friar, God hath revealed to me that on such a day in this sickness I shall pass
from this life : and thou knowest that if the Lady Jacqueline of Settesoli, the
dearest friend of our Order, came to hear of my death, and were not present,
she would sorrow overmuch ; therefore signify to her that she must straight-
way come hither, if she would see me alive." The friar answered, " Thou
sayst but too true, father, for verily of the great devotion she hath for thee,
it would be most unseemly if she were not present at thy death." " Go then,"
said St. Francis, " and fetch me ink and paper and pen, and write what I
shall tell thee." And when he had brought them, St. Francis dictated the
letter in this wise, " To the Lady Jacqueline, servant of God, greeting and
fellowship of the Holy Ghost in our Lord Jesus Christ, from Friar Francis,
Christ's poor little one. Know, dearest lady, that the blessed Christ hath
revealed to me by His grace that the end of my life is at hand. Therefore, if
thou wouldst find me yet alive, set forth when thou hast seen this letter, and
LADY JACQUELINE 119
come to St. Mary of the Angels ; for if by such a day thou art not come, thou
shalt not find me alive; and bring sackcloth, wherein my body may be
shrouded, and wax needful for my burial. Prithee, also, bring me of those
meats to eat thou wast wont to give me when I lay sick at Rome." And
while this letter was writing, it was revealed by God to St. Francis that the
Lady Jacqueline was coming to him, and was near by, and had brought with
her all those things he was sending to ask for in the letter. Whereupon,
having had this revelation, St. Francis told the friar that was writing the letter
to write no further, since there was no need, but to lay the letter aside :
whereat the friars marvelled greatly, because the letter was not finished, nor
would he have it despatched. Then a little while, and a loud knocking was
heard at the door, and St. Francis sent the doorkeeper to open it ; and the door
being opened, there was Lady Jacqueline, the noblest lady of Rome, with her two
sons, that were Roman senators, and with a great company of horsemen, and
they entered in ; and the Lady Jacqueline goes straight to the infirmary and
comes to St. Francis. And at her coming St. Francis had great joy and
consolation, and she likewise, when she beheld him living, and was able to
speak with him. Then she recounted how that God had revealed to her at
Rome, while she was at prayer, that the term of his life was at hand, and that
he was to send for her and to ask of her all those things she had brought ;
and she bade them be carried in to St. Francis, and gave him to eat thereof.
And when he had eaten, and was much comforted, the Lady Jacqueline knelt
at the feet of St. Francis, and took those most holy feet, marked and adorned
with the wounds of Christ, and kissed them, and bathed his feet with her tears,
and this with such exceeding great devotion that the friars that stood around
seemed to behold the Magdalen herself at the feet of Jesus Christ, and in no
wise could they draw her away. Finally, after a great space, they led her
thence and drew her aside ; and they asked her how she had come thus in due
time and provided with all those things that were necessary for the comfort
and burial of St. Francis. The Lady Jacqueline answered, that one night,
when she was praying at Rome, she heard a voice from heaven, saying, " If
thou wouldst find St. Francis living, delay not, but haste to Assisi, and bear
with thee those things thou art wont to give him when he is sick, and
the things needful for his burial ; " "And," said she, "thus have I done."
The said Lady Jacqueline abode there until such time as St. Francis passed
from this life and was buried, and she and all her company did very great
honour to his burial, and paid the cost of all that was needed. And then,
ilo ST. FRANCIS APPEARS
being returned to Rome, this noble lady, in a short time, died a holy death ;
and, through devotion to St. Francis, she appointed St. Mary of the Angels to
be her burial-place : thither was she borne, and even there was buried.
V. How "Jerome, that believed not therein, touched and saw the sacred and
hallowed stigmas.
Not only did the said Lady Jacqueline and her sons and her company see
and kiss the glorious and sacred stigmas of St. Francis at his death, but
likewise many men of the city of Assisi ; and among them a knight of
much renown and a mighty man, called Jerome, that was incredulous and
doubted much, even as St. Thomas the Apostle doubted of the wounds of
Christ ; and to certify himself and others thereof, he boldly moved the nails
in the hands and feet, and openly felt the wound in the side in the presence
of the friars and of lay folk. Wherefore he was ever after a constant witness
of the truth, and sware on the gospel that thus it was and thus he had seen
and touched. St. Clare also, with her nuns that were present at the burial,
saw and kissed the glorious and hallowed stigmas of St. Francis.
VI. Touching the day and the year of the death of St. Francis.
St. Francis, glorious confessor of Christ, passed from this life in the
year of our Lord one thousand two hundred and twenty-six, on Saturday
the fourth day of October, and was buried on the Sunday. And that year
was the twentieth year of his conversion, to wit, when he had begun to
do penance ; and it was the second year after the imprinting of the sacred
and hallowed stigmas, and the forty-fifth year of his life.
VII. Of the canonisation of St. Francis.
St. Francis was thereafter canonised by Pope Gregory IX., in the year
one thousand two hundred and twenty-eight, and he came in person to Assisi
to canonise him. And let this suffice for the fourth consideration.
VIII. Touching the fifth and last consideration of the sacred and hallowed
stigmas.
The fifth and last consideration is of certain visions and revelations
and miracles that God wrought and showed forth after the death of St.
Francis, in confirmation of his sacred and hallowed stigmas, and in certification
of the day and the hour when Christ gave them to him. And touching this
be it remembered that in the year of our Lord one thousand two hundred and
eighty-two, on the . . . day of October, Friar Philip, minister of Tuscany,
by command of Friar John Buonagrazia, the minister-general, bade by holy
obedience Friar Matthew of Castiglione Aretino, a man of great devotion
TO FRIAR MATTHEW 121
and sanctity, tell him what he knew touching the day and the hour whereon
the sacred and hallowed stigmas were imprinted by Christ on the body
of St. Francis : for he had heard that of this he had a divine revelation. This
Friar Matthew, constrained by holy obedience, answered him thus, " When
I was sojourning at La Verna, this past year, in the month of May, I betook
me one day to prayer in my cell, which is on the spot where it is believed
that the vision of the seraph was seen. And in my prayers I besought
God most devoutly, that it would please Him to reveal to some person
the day and the hour whereon the sacred and hallowed stigmas were imprinted
on the body of St. Francis. And I, persevering in prayer and in this
petition beyond the first sleep, St. Francis appeared to me in a great light
and spake to me thus, ' Son, wherefore prayest thou to God ? ' And I said
to him, ' Father, I pray for such a thing.' And he to me, ' I am thy father,
Francis, knowest thou me well ? ' ' Father,' said I, ' yea ! ' Then he showed
to me the sacred and hallowed stigmas in his hands and feet and in his side,
and said, ' The time is come when God willeth that to His glory those
things shall be made manifest that the friars in the past have not cared
to know. Know that He who appeared to me was no angel, but Jesus Christ
in the form of a seraph, that with His hands imprinted these wounds on
my body, even as He received them in His body on the cross ; and it was
in this manner — the day before the exaltation of the holy cross, an angel
came to me and in God's name bade me make ready to suffer and receive that
which God willed to send me. And I answered that I was ready to receive
and endure all things at God's pleasure. Then on the morrow, to wit, the
morning of Holy Cross day, which in that year fell on a Friday, I came
forth from my cell at the dawn in exceeding great fervour of spirit, and
I went to pray in this place where thou now art, in which place I was
ofttimes wont to pray. And while I was at prayer, lo, there came down
through the air from heaven a youth crucified, in the form of a seraph, with
six wings ; and he came with great swiftness ; at whose wondrous aspect
I knelt me down humbly and began to meditate devoutly on the ineffable
love of Jesus Christ crucified, and on the unspeakable pain of His Passion.
And His aspect begat in me compassion so great that meseemed verily to
feel this passion in mine own body ; and at His presence all the mountain
shone, bright as the sun : and thus descending from heaven He came nigh
to me. And standing before me He spake to me certain secret words
that I have not yet revealed to any man ; but the time is at hand when
i22 ST. FRANCIS APPEARS
they shall be revealed. Then after some space Christ departed and went
back to heaven, and I found me thus marked with these wounds. ' Go
then,' said St. Francis, ' and tell these things confidently to thy minister,
for this is the work of God and not of man.' These words said, St. Francis
blessed me and returned to heaven with a great multitude of youths in shining
raiment." All these things Friar Matthew said he had seen and heard, not
sleeping, but waking. And even so he sware that he had said really and
truly to the minister in his cell at Florence when he required him thereof by
obedience.
IX. How a holy friar was reading in the legend about the secret words that
the seraph said when he appeared to St. Francis as set forth in the chapter touching
the sacred and hallowed stigmas ; and how the said friar prayed to God so fervently
that St. Francis revealed them to him.
Another time, when a devout and holy friar was reading the chapter
of the sacred and hallowed stigmas in the Legend of St. Francis, he began
to think with great anxiety of mind what those words, so secret, might
have been that St. Francis said he would reveal to no man while he lived,
and that the seraph had spoken when he appeared to him. And this friar
said within himself, " St. Francis would never tell those words to any man
while he lived, but now after his bodily death haply he might tell them
if he were devoutly entreated. And henceforth the devout friar began to
pray to God and to St. Francis that they would be pleased to reveal those
words ; and this friar, persevering for eight years in this prayer, on the
eighth year, by his merits, his prayer was answered in this wise : One day
after he had eaten and had returned thanks in church, he was at prayer in
another part of the church, beseeching God and St. Francis to grant his
prayer more devoutly than he was wont to do, and with many tears, when
he was called by another friar and bidden by order of the warden to bear
him company to the city on the business of the Order. Wherefore, doubting
not that obedience was more meritorious than prayer, on hearing the com-
mand of the prelate, he forthwith ceased to pray and humbly went forth
with that friar who had called him. And, as it pleased God, in that act
of ready obedience he merited what by long years of prayer he had failed
to merit. Wherefore no sooner were they outside the friary door than
they encountered two stranger friars that seemed to have come from a far
country ; and one of them seemed young in years, the other aged and
lean ; and by reason of the bad weather, they were all bemired and
TO THE FRIARS 123
wet. And this obedient friar, having great compassion on them, said to
the companion with whom he went, " O my dearest brother, if the
business wherefore we go may be delayed a while, forasmuch as these stranger
friars have great need of being charitably received, prithee let me first go
and wash their feet, and especially the feet of that aged friar that hath the
greater need thereof, and you can wash the feet of this younger one : and
then we will go our way on the affairs of the Order." This friar then
consenting to the charity of his companion, they returned within, and
receiving these stranger friars very charitably, they led them to the kitchen
fire to warm and dry themselves ; and at this fire eight other friars were
warming themselves. And after they had stood a while at the fire, they
drew them aside to wash their feet, according as they had agreed together.
And as that obedient and devout friar was washing the feet of the aged
stranger, and cleansing them from the mire, he looked, and . beheld his
feet marked with the sacred and hallowed stigmas ; and straightway embracing
them tenderly, for very joy and amazement, he began to cry, " Either thou art
Christ, or thou art St. Francis." At this cry and at these words the friars
that were by the fire rose up and with great trembling and reverence drew
nigh to behold those glorious stigmas. And at their entreaties this aged friar
suffered them to see them clearly and to touch them and kiss them. And
as they marvelled yet more for very joy, he said to them, " Doubt not, nor
fear, dearest friars, my children ; I am your father, Friar Francis, who,
according to God's will, established three Orders. And forasmuch as I have
been entreated, these eight years past, by this friar that washeth my
feet, and this day more fervently than ever, that I would reveal to
him those secret words the seraph said to me, when he gave me the
stigmas, which words I would never reveal during my life, this day,
by commandment of God, and because of his perseverance and his ready
obedience, when he renounced the sweetness of contemplation, I am sent
by God to reveal to him, in your sight, what he asked of me." And St.
Francis, turning towards that friar, spake thus, " Know, dearest friar, that
when I was on the mount of La Verna, all rapt in the contemplation of
the Passion of Christ, in this seraphic vision I was by Christ thus stigmatised
in my body ; and then Christ said to me, ' Knowest thou what I have done
to thee ? I have given thee the marks of my Passion in order that thou
mayst be My standard-bearer. And even as I, on the day of My death,
descended into limbo and drew thence all the souls I found therein, by
1 24 ST. FRANCIS APPEARS
virtue of my stigmas, and led them up to paradise, so do I grant to thee
from this hour (that thou mayst be conformed to Me in thy death as thou
hast been in thy life) that after thou hast passed from this life thou shalt
go every year, on the day of thy death, to purgatory, and shalt deliver
all the souls thou shalt find there of thy three Orders, to wit, Minors, Sisters,
and Penitents, and likewise the souls of thy devoted followers, and this, in
virtue of thy stigmas that I have given thee ; and thou shalt lead them
to paradise.' And those words I told not while I lived in the world." This
said, St. Francis and his companion vanished ; and many friars thereafter heard
this from those eight friars that were present at the vision and heard the
words of St. Francis.
X. How St. Francis appeared after his death to Friar fohn of La Verna while
he was at prayer.
On the mount of La Verna, St. Francis appeared on a time to Friar John
of La Verna, a man of great sanctity, while he was at prayer, and remained
and held converse with him a very long space ; and at last being willed
to depart, he spake thus, " Ask of me what thou wilt." Said Friar John,
" Father, I pray thee, tell me that which for a long time I have desired to
know, to wit, what you were doing, and where you were, when the seraph
appeared to you." St. Francis answers, " I was praying in that place where
the chapel of Count Simon of Battifolle now stands, and I was craving two
graces of my Lord Jesus Christ. The first was, that He would vouchsafe to me,
during my life, to feel in my soul and in my body, so far as might be, all that
pain He had felt in Himself at the time of His bitterest Passion. The second
grace I asked of Him was that I should likewise feel in my heart that exceeding
love wherewith he was enkindled to endure that Passion so great, for us sinners.
And then God put in my heart that He would grant me to feel the one and
the other, so far as might be possible to a mere creature : which thing was
well fulfilled in me by the imprinting of the stigmas." Then Friar John asks
of him if those secret words that the seraph said to him were after the manner
that the aforesaid holy friar had recited, who had affirmed he had heard them
from St. Francis in the presence of eight friars. St. Francis answered that the
truth was even as that friar had said. Then Friar John takes heart from the
freedom of his condescension and says thus, " Oh father, thee I pray most
earnestly, suffer me to behold and kiss thy sacred and glorious stigmas ; not
because I doubt aught thereof, but only for my consolation, for this have I
ever desired." And St. Francis, freely showing them and holding them forth
TO FRIAR JOHN 125
to him, Friar John beheld them clearly, and touched them, and kissed them.
And finally he asked of him, " Father, what consolation did your soul feel on
beholding the blessed Christ coming to give you the signs of His most holy
Passion ? Would to God that I now might feel a little of that sweetness ! "
Then St. Francis answers, " Seest thou these nails ? " Saith Friar John, " Yea,
father." " Touch yet again," saith St. Francis, " this nail in my hand." Then
Friar John with great reverence and fear touched that nail, and anon, as he
touched it, a great fragrance issued forth like to a column of incense, and,
entering the nostrils of Friar John, filled his soul and his body with such sweet-
ness that straightway he was rapt in God and became senseless in ecstasy, and
he remained thus ravished from that hour, which was the hour of tierce, until
vespers. And this vision and familiar converse with St. Francis, Friar John
told to no man save to his confessor, until he came to die ; but, being nigh
unto death, he revealed it to many friars.
XI. Of a holy friar who beheld a wondrous vision of one of his companions
that was dead.
A most devout and holy friar saw this wondrous vision in the province of
Rome. A very dear friar, his companion, having died one night, was buried
on the morrow before the entrance to the chapter-room ; and on that same day
this friar withdrew, after dinner, into a corner of the chapter-room to pray
devoutly to God and to St. Francis for the soul of the dead friar, his companion.
And as he persevered in prayer with supplication and tears, lo, at noon, when
all the other friars were gone to sleep, he heard a great moving about in the
cloister. Whereat, greatly afeard, anon he turned his eyes towards the grave
of this his companion, and beheld St. Francis at the entrance of the chapter,
and behind him a great multitude of friars all standing round the said grave ;
and he saw a fire with great tongues of flame in the middle of the cloister, and
in the midst of the flames stood the soul of his dead companion. He looks
around the cloister and sees Jesus Christ going around the cloister with a great
company of angels and saints. And gazing at these things with great amaze
he sees that when Christ passes before the chapter, St. Francis and all those
friars kneel down ; and St. Francis saith these words, " I pray Thee, my dearest
Father and Lord, by that inestimable love Thou didst show forth to the
generations of men when Thou didst die on the wood of the cross, have
mercy on the soul of this my friar that burneth in this fire." And Christ
answered naught but passed on. And He returns a second time, and passing
before the chapter-room, St. Francis again kneels down with his friars as
1 26 THE DEVIL WITNESSES
before and entreats Him in this wise, " I pray Thee, pitying Father and Lord,
by the ineffable love Thou didst show to the generations of men when Thou
didst die on the wood of the cross, have mercy on the soul of this my
friar." And Christ, in like manner, passed on and heard him not. And going
round the cloister He returned a third time and passed before the chapter-
room ; and then St. Francis, kneeling down as before, showed Him his hands
and feet and breast, and spake thus, " I pray Thee, pitying Father and Lord, by
that great pain and great consolation I felt when Thou didst imprint these
stigmas on my flesh, have mercy on the soul of this my friar that is in this
purgatorial fire." Marvellous to tell ! Christ, being entreated this third time
by St. Francis, in the name of his stigmas, straightway stays His steps and
looks on the stigmas and answers his prayer and saith these words, " To thee,
Francis, I grant the soul of thy friar." And thereby of a surety He willed
to confirm and honour the glorious stigmas of St. Francis and openly signify
that the souls of his friars that go to purgatory are delivered from their
pains in no other way more readily than by virtue of his stigmas, and led to
the glories of paradise ; according to the words that Christ said to St. Francis
when He imprinted them upon him. Wherefore, these words said, straight-
way that fire in the cloister vanished, and the dead friar came to St. Francis,
and all that company of the blessed ascended to heaven with him, and with
Christ their glorious King. Whereat this friar, his companion, that had
prayed for him, had exceeding great joy when he beheld him delivered from
the pains of purgatory and taken up to heaven ; and thereafter he related
this vision in due order to the other friars, and together with them gave praise
and thanks to God.
XII. How a noble knight, that had devotion to St. Francis, was certified of his
death and of the sacred and hallowed stigmas.
A noble knight of Massa di San Pietro, named Rudolph, that had a great
devotion to St. Francis, and who at length had received the habit of the third
Order at his hands, was thuswise certified of the death of St. Francis and of his
sacred and hallowed stigmas : When St. Francis was nigh unto death, the
devil at that time entered into a woman of the said village and tormented
her cruelly, and withal made her speak with such subtle learning that she
overcame all the wise men and learned doctors that came to dispute with
her. And it fell out that the devil departed from her and left her free two
days : and the third day he returned to her and afflicted her more cruelly
than before. Rudolph, hearing this, goes to this woman, and asks of the devil
TO ST. FRANCIS" DEATH 127
that possessed her, for what cause he had departed from her two days, and
then returned and tormented her more harshly than before. The devil
answers, " When I left her, it was because I, with all my companions that
are in these parts, assembled together and went in mighty force to the death-
bed of the beggar Francis, to dispute with him and capture his soul ; but
his soul being surrounded and defended by a multitude of angels, greater
than we were, was carried by them straight to heaven, and we went away
confounded ; so I restore and make up to this miserable woman what I let
pass by during those two days." Then Rudolph conjured him in God's
name to tell the whole truth of the holiness of St. Francis, who he said was
dead, and of St. Clare that was alive. The devil answers, " Willy-nilly, I will
tell thee what there is of truth in this. God the Father was so wroth against
the sinners of this world that it seemed He would, in brief time, give His last
judgment against men and women, and, if they did not amend, destroy them
from the face of the earth. But Christ, His Son, praying for sinners, promised
to renew His life and His Passion in a man, to wit, in Francis, the poor little
one and a beggar, through whose life and teaching He would bring back many
from all over the world to the way of truth, and many also to repentance.
And now, to show forth to the world what He had wrought in St. Francis,
He hath willed that the stigmas of His Passion that He had imprinted on St.
Francis's body during his life, might, at his death, be seen and touched by
many. Likewise, the Mother of Christ promised to renew her virginal purity
and her humility in a woman, to wit, in Sister Clare, in such wise that by her
example she would deliver many thousands of women from our hands. And
thus God the Father, being softened, did delay His final sentence." Then
Rudolph, desiring to know of a surety if the devil, who is the abode and
father of lies, spake truth in these things, and especially as to the death of St.
Francis, sent one, his trusty squire, to St. Mary of the Angels at Assisi, to
learn if St. Francis were alive or dead ; which squire, coming thither, found
of a surety it was so, and returning to his lord, reported that on the very day
and at the very hour that the devil had said, St. Francis had passed from
this life.
XIII. How Pope Gregory IX., doubting of the stigmas of St. Francis, was
certified thereof.
Setting aside all the miracles of the sacred and hallowed stigmas of St.
Francis, which may be read in his legend, be it known, in conclusion of this
fifth consideration, that St. Francis appeared one night to Pope Gregory IX.,
128 FRIAR JUNIPER
as he afterwards told, when he was in some doubt touching the wound in
the side of St. Francis, and lifting up a little his right arm, discovered the
wound in his side, and asked for a vase ; and he had it brought to him ; and St.
Francis had it held under the wound in his side, and verily it seemed to the
pope that he saw the vase filled to the brim with blood mingled with water
that issued from the wound : and thenceforth all doubt departed from him.
Then, in council with all the cardinals, he approved the sacred and hallowed
stigmas of St. Francis, and thereof gave special privilege to the friars by a
sealed Bull ; and this he did at Viterbo, in the eleventh year of his ponti-
ficate ; and then, in the twelfth year, he issued another Bull yet more fully
indited. Pope Nicholas III. likewise, and Pope Alexander, gave abundant
privileges whereby whosoever denied the sacred and hallowed stigmas of St.
Francis should be proceeded against as a heretic. And let this suffice as to the
fifth consideration of the glorious, sacred, and hallowed stigmas of St. Francis
our father. And may God give us the grace to follow after his life, in this
world, so that, through the virtue of his glorious stigmas, we may merit
salvation, and be with him in paradise. To the praise of Jesus Christ and of
the poor little one, St. Francis. Amen.
Here beginneth the Life of Friar "Juniper
I. How Friar Juniper cut the foot off a pig merely to give it to a sick man.
Friar Juniper was one of the most chosen disciples and first companions of
St. Francis. He was a man of deep humility and of great zeal and charity ;
and of him St. Francis said, speaking on a time with those holy companions
of his, " He were a good friar that had so overcome himself and the world as
Friar Juniper hath." One day, as he was visiting a sick friar at St. Mary of
the Angels, all aflame with charity, he asked with great compassion, " Can I
serve thee in aught ? " The sick man answers, " Much comfort and great
solace would it be to me if I might have a pig's trotter." And Friar Juniper
said, "Trust to me, for I will get one forthwith." And off" he goes and
snatches up a knife (I believe 'twas a kitchen knife) and goes in fervour of
spirit about the wood, where certain pigs were feeding, and falling on one of
them, cuts off" a foot and runs away with it, leaving the pig maimed ; he
returns, washes and dresses and cooks this foot, and having well dished it up,
carries the said foot to the sick man with much charity. And the sick friar
ate thereof greedily, to the great consolation and joy of Friar Juniper, who
FRIAR JUNIPER 129
told the story of the assaults he had made on the pig with great glee, to
rejoice the heart of the sick man. Meanwhile the swineherd, that saw this
friar cut the foot off, told over the whole story with much bitterness to his
master. And he, being informed of this deed, comes to the friary and calls the
friars hypocrites, thieves, false knaves, and wicked rogues, exclaiming, " Where-
fore have ye cut off my pig's foot ? " Hearing the great uproar he made,
St. Francis and all the friars hurried along, and St. Francis made excuse for
his friars, saying, with all humility, that they knew naught of the deed ; and
to pacify the man, promised to make amends for every wrong done to him.
But for all this he was not to be appeased, but departed from the friary in
great wrath, uttering many insults and threats, repeating over and over again
how that they had wickedly cut off his pig's foot, and accepting neither
excuses nor promises, he hastened away greatly scandalised. But St. Francis,
full of prudence, bethought him the while the other friars stood all stupefied,
and said in his heart, " Can Friar Juniper have done this thing out of indiscreet
zeal ? " So he bade call Friar Juniper secretly to him, and asked him, saying,
" Hast thou cut off that pig's foot in the wood ? " To whom Friar Juniper
answered, right gleefully, and not as one having committed a fault, but as one
that believed he had done a deed of great charity, and spake thus, " My sweet
father, true it is I have cut off a foot from that said pig ; and the cause thereof,
my father, hear, if thou wilt, compassionately. I went out of charity to visit
a certain friar that was sick " ; and then he related the whole story in order,
and added, " I tell thee this much, that considering the consolation this friar of
ours felt, and the comfort he took from the said foot, had I cut off the feet of
a hundred pigs as I did this one, I believe of a surety God would have looked
on it as a good deed." Whereupon St. Francis, with righteous zeal, and with
great bitterness, said, " O Friar Juniper, wherefore hast thou wrought this
great scandal ? Not without cause doth that man grieve, and thus rail against
us ; and perchance even now, as I speak, he is going about the city defaming us
of evil, and good cause hath he. Wherefore I command thee, by holy obedi-
ence, run after him until thou overtake him, and cast thyself on the ground
prostrate before him and confess thy fault, and promise to make him such
full amends as that he shall have no cause to complain of us : for of a surety
this hath been too monstrous an offence." Friar Juniper marvelled much at
the aforesaid words, and was filled with amaze, being astonished that there
should be any disturbance over such an act of charity ; for these temporal
things seemed to him naught, save in so far as they were charitably shared
i3o FRIAR JUNIPER
with one's neighbour. And Friar Juniper answered, " Fear not, father mine,
for anon will I repay him and make him content. And wherefore should he
be so troubled, seeing that this pig, whose foot I have cut off, was God's
rather than his own, and a very charitable use hath been made thereof ? "
And so he sets forth at a run, and cometh up with this man that was raging
beyond all measure and past all patience ; and he told him how, and for what
cause, he had cut off the said pig's foot, and withal in such great fervour and
exultation and joy, even as one that had done him a great service for which he
ought to be well rewarded. But the man, boiling with anger, and overcome
with fury, heaped many insults on Friar Juniper, calling him a mad fellow and
a fool, a big thief, and the worst of scoundrels. But Friar Juniper cared
naught for these abusive words, and marvelled within himself, for he rejoiced
in being reviled, and believed that he had not heard aright ; for it seemed to
him matter for rejoicing, and not for spite : and he told the story anew, and
fell on the man's neck and embraced him and kissed him, and told him how
that this thing had been done for charity's sake alone, inviting him and
entreating him to give likewise what was left of the pig ; and all with such
charity and simplicity and humility that the man, being come to himself, fell
on the ground before him, not without many tears ; and asking pardon for the
wrong he had said and done to these friars, he goes and takes this pig and
kills it, and having cooked it, he carries it, with much devotion and many
tears, to St. Mary of the Angels, and gives it to these holy friars to eat, out
of compassion for the said wrong he had done them. And St. Francis, con-
sidering the simplicity and the patience under adversity of this said holy friar,
said to his companions and to the others that stood by, " Would to God,
my brethren, that I had a whole forest of such junipers ! "
II. An en sample of Friar y unifier s great power against the devil.
That the devil was unable to endure the purity of the innocence of Friar
Juniper and his deep humility appeareth in this. On a time, a man pos-
sessed with a devil, flung out of the way he was going, and, beyond his wont
and with much fury, all of a sudden fled full seven miles by divers paths. And
being overtaken and questioned by his kinsfolk who followed after him with
bitter grief, wherefore in his flight he had taken such devious ways, he answered,
" The reason is this : forasmuch as that fool Juniper was passing by that way,
being unable to endure his presence, nor to encounter him, I fled through
these woods." And certifying themselves of this truth, they found that Friar
Juniper had passed along at that hour even as the devil had said. Wherefore
FRIAR JUNIPER 131
St. Francis, when the possessed were brought to him that they might be
healed, was wont to say, if the devils departed not straightway at his com-
mand, " An thou depart not forthwith from this creature I will bring Friar
Juniper up against thee." And then the devil, fearing the presence of Friar
Juniper and unable to endure the virtue and humility of St. Francis, would
straightway depart.
III. How at the instigation of the devil Friar Juniper was condemned to the
gallows.
On a time, the devil, desiring to affright Friar Juniper and to vex and
trouble him, went to a most cruel tyrant named Nicholas that was then at
war with the city of Viterbo, and said, " My lord, guard this your castle well,
for anon a false traitor is to come hither, sent by the men of Viterbo, that he
may slay you and set fire to your castle. And, in token of the truth of this,
I give you these signs. He goeth about after the fashion of a poor wight,
with garments all tattered and patched, and with a ragged cowl falling on his
shoulders ; and with him he beareth an awl wherewith he is to kill you, and
he hath a flint and steel with him to set fire to this castle. And if you find I
speak not sooth, deal with me as you will." At these words Nicholas was
filled with amaze and grew sore afraid, because he that spake these words
seemed an honest fellow. And he commanded diligent watch and ward to
be kept, and that if this man, with the aforesaid tokens came, he should be
straightway brought into his presence. Meanwhile Friar Juniper comes alone,
for because of his perfection he had licence to go forth and stay alone, even as
it pleased him. Now Friar Juniper happened on certain evil youths that
began to mock and abuse him shamefully ; and at all these things he was
not troubled, but rather led them to deride him the more. And when he
came up to the door of the castle, the guards seeing him thus ill favoured
and in a scant habit all in rags (for he had given part thereof to the poor by
the way), and seeing he had no semblance of a friar minor, and that the
tokens given them were manifestly apparent, dragged him, with great fury,
before this tyrant Nicholas. And being searched by his servants for hidden
weapons, they found an awl in his sleeve wherewith he was wont to mend
his sandals ; likewise they found a flint and steel, which he carried with him
to kindle fire ; for his time was his own, and oft he abode in woods and
desert places. Nicholas, beholding these signs on him, in accord with
the testimony of the accusing devil, commanded his servants to bind a rope
about his neck, and this they did, with such great cruelty that the rope
1 32 FRIAR JUNIPER
entered into his flesh ; and then they put him on the rack and stretched his
arms and racked his whole body without any mercy. And being asked who
he was, he answered, " I am the greatest of sinners." And when asked if he
had purposed to betray the castle and give it over to the men of Viterbo, he
answered, " I am the greatest of traitors, and unworthy of any good thing."
And asked if he purposed to kill Nicholas the tyrant with that awl and set
fire to the castle, he answered that he would do even worse things and more
monstrous, if God permitted. This Nicholas, maddened with rage, would
suffer no more questioning of him, but, without any term or delay, condemned
Friar Juniper, in his fury, as a traitor and manslayer, to be tied to the tail of
a horse and dragged along the ground to the gallows and there straightway
hanged by the neck. And Friar Juniper made no defence, but, as one that
was content to suffer tribulation for love of God, was all joyous and glad.
And the sentence of the tyrant being put in execution, Friar Juniper was
bound by his feet to the tail of a horse and dragged along the ground ; and
he complained not, nor lamented, but as a gentle lamb led to the slaughter,
went with all humility. At this spectacle and swift justice all the people ran
to behold him executed thus hastily and thus cruelly : and they knew him
not. But, as God willed, a good man that had seen Friar Juniper taken and
thus quickly dragged to execution, runs to the house of the friars minor,
and saith, " For love of God, I pray you, come quickly, for a poor wretch hath
been taken and straightway condemned and led forth to die : come, that at
least he may give his soul into your hands ; for he seemeth to me an honest
fellow, and hath had no time wherein he may confess ; lo, he is led forth to
the gallows and seemeth to have no care for death, nor for the salvation of his
soul : ah ! I beseech you, deign to come quickly." The warden, who was a
compassionate man, goes forthwith to provide for the salvation of his soul,
and coming up to the place of execution, finds that the multitudes who had
come to see were so increased that he could not pass through : and he stood
and watched for an opening. And as he waited, he heard a voice in the midst
of the crowd that cried, " Don't, don't, ye bad men ; ye hurt my legs." At
this voice a suspicion took the warden that this might be Friar Juniper, and in
fervour of spirit he flung himself among them and tore aside the wrappings
from the face of him ; and there truly was Friar Juniper. Wherefore the
compassionate warden was minded to take off his cloak to clothe Friar Juniper
withal ; but he, with joyous countenance and half laughing, said, " O warden,
thou art fat, and it were an ill sight to see thy nakedness. I will not have it."
FRIAR JUNIPER 133
Then the warden, with many tears, besought the hangmen and all the people
for pity's sake to wait a while until he should go and entreat the tyrant for
Friar Juniper, that he might grant him pardon. The hangmen and certain
bystanders consenting thereto (for they truly believed he was a kinsman), the
devout and compassionate warden goes to Nicholas the tyrant, and with bitter
tears saith, " My lord, I am in such great bitterness and wonderment of soul
that tongue cannot tell thereof, for meseems that the greatest sin and the
greatest wickedness ever wrought in the days of our forefathers is this day
being done in this city : and I believe it is done in ignorance." Nicholas
hears the warden patiently, and asks of him, " What is the great wrong and
evil deed committed this day in our city ? " The warden answers, " My lord,
you have condemned one of the holiest friars in the Order of St. Francis, for
whom you have singular devotion, to a cruel death, and, as I verily believe,
without cause." Saith Nicholas, " Now tell me, warden, who is this ? for
perchance knowing him not I have committed a great wrong." Saith the
warden, " He that you have doomed to death is Friar Juniper, the companion
of St. Francis." Nicholas the tyrant, stupefied, for he had heard of the fame
and of the holy life of Friar Juniper, runs, astonied and all pale, together
with the warden, and coming up to Friar Juniper looseth him from the tail of
the horse and sets him free ; then, in the presence of all the people, flings himself
prostrate on the ground before Friar Juniper, and with many tears confesses
his guilt, and bewails the wrong and the villainy he had done to this holy
Friar, and cried, " Verily I believe that the days of my evil life are numbered,
since I have thus tortured the holiest of men without cause. God will appoint
an end to my wicked life, and in brief time I shall die an evil death, albeit I
have done this thing in ignorance." Friar Juniper freely forgave Nicholas the
tyrant ; but God suffered, ere a few days were passed, that this Nicholas the
tyrant should end his life and die a very cruel death. And Friar Juniper
departed, leaving all the people edified.
IV. How Friar "Juniper gave to the poor all he could lay hands on for
love of God.
So much pity and compassion had Friar Juniper for the poor, that
when he saw any one ill clad or naked, anon he would take off his tunic,
and the cowl from his cloak, and give them to poor souls such as these.
Therefore the warden commanded him, by obedience, not to give away the
whole of his tunic, nor any part of his habit. Now it fell out that Friar
Juniper, ere a few days had passed, happened on a poor creature, well-nigh
134 FRIAR JUNIPER
naked, who asked alms of him for love of God, to whom he said with
great compassion, " Naught have I, save my tunic, to give thee ; and this
my superior hath laid on me, by obedience, to give to no one ; nay, nor
even part of my habit ; but if thou wilt take it off my back, I will not gainsay
thee." He spake not to deaf ears, for straightway this poor man stripped him
of his tunic and went his way with it, leaving Friar Juniper naked. And
when he was back at the friary, he was asked where his tunic was, and
he answered, " An honest fellow took it from my back and made off with
it." And the virtue of pity increasing within him, he was not content with
giving away his tunic, but likewise gave books and church ornaments and
cloaks, or anything he could lay hands on, to the poor. And for this
reason the friars never left things lying about the friary, because Friar Juniper
gave all away for love of God and in praise of Him.
V. How Friar Juniper stripped certain little bells from the altar, and gave
them away for love of God.
Friar Juniper, being on a time in Assisi, at the Nativity of Christ,
engaged in deep meditation at the altar of the friary, which was richly decked
and adorned, was asked by the sacristan to guard the said altar while he went
to eat. And while he was in devout meditation, a poor little woman begged
alms of him for love of God : to whom Friar Juniper thus answered, " Tarry a
while and I will see if I can give thee aught from this altar so rich." Now
there was on that altar a hanging of gold, richly and sumptuously adorned
with little silver bells of great worth. Saith Friar Juniper, " These bells
are a superfluity." So he takes a knife and cuts them all from the hanging,
and gives them, out of compassion, to this poor little woman. No sooner
had the sacristan eaten three or four mouthfuls than he remembered the
ways of Friar Juniper, and was sore afraid lest out of his zealous chanty he
might work some mischief to the rich altar he had left in his charge.
And straightway he rose from the table, in much dread, and went to the
church and looked to see if any of the ornaments of the altar had been
removed or taken away ; and lo, he beheld the hanging hacked about and
the bells cut off: whereat he was beyond all measure perturbed and scandalised.
And Friar Juniper, beholding him thus agitated, saith, " Be not troubled about
those bells, for I have given them to a poor woman that had very great need
of them, and here they were of no use, save that they made a show of worldly
pomp." Hearing this, the sacristan ran straightway through the church and
about the whole city, in great affliction, to see if haply he might find her.
FRIAR JUNIPER 135
But so .far from finding her, he could not even find any one that had seen her.
Returning to the friary, he took the hanging from the altar, in a great rage,
and carried it to the general that was at Assisi, and said, " Father-general,
I demand of you justice on Friar Juniper, who hath spoiled this hanging for
me, that was the most precious thing in our sacristy ; look now how he hath
destroyed it and stripped off all the little silver bells, and he saith he hath
given them away to a poor woman." The general answered, " Friar
Juniper hath not done this, rather hath thy folly done it, for thou oughtest by
this time to know his ways well ; and I say unto thee, I marvel that he hath
not given away all the rest ; but none the less will I correct him for this
fault." And having called all the friars together in Chapter, he bade call Friar
Juniper, and in the presence of the whole house rebuked him very harshly
because of the aforesaid little bells ; and he waxed so furious in his wrath, that
by raising his voice so high he grew quite hoarse. Friar Juniper heeded those
words little or naught, for he rejoiced in contumely and when he was well
abased ; but returning good for evil, he began to think only how he might
find a remedy for his general's hoarseness. So having endured the general's
scolding, Friar Juniper goes to the city and orders a good dish of porridge and
butter ; and a good part of the night being spent, he goes and lights a candle
and comes back with this mess of porridge and takes it to the general's cell and
knocks. The general opens to him, and, beholding him with a lighted candle
in one hand and the dish of porridge in the other, asks softly, " What is this?"
Friar Juniper answered, " My father, to-day, when you chid me for my faults,
I perceived that your voice was growing hoarse, and, as I ween, from over-
fatigue ; therefore I bethought me of a remedy, and I had this porridge made
for thee ; pray eat thereof, for I tell thee it will ease thy chest and throat."
Said the general, " What hour is this for thee to go disturbing folk ? " Friar
Juniper answered, " Look now, for thee 'tis made ; prithee make no more ado,
but eat thereof, for 'twill do thee much good." And the general, angry at the
late hour and at his importunity, bade him begone, for at such an hour he had
no desire to eat, and called him a base fellow and a caitiff. Friar Juniper,
seeing that neither prayer nor coaxing was of any avail, spake thus, " My
father, since thou wilt not eat of this porridge that was made for thee, at least
do me this favour : hold the candle for me, and I will eat it." And the pious
and devout general, bearing in mind Friar Juniper's compassion and simplicity,
and knowing that all this was done by him out of devotion, answered, " Look
now, since thou wilt have it so, let us eat, thou and I, together." And both
i36 FRIAR JUNIPER
ate of this dish of porridge, because of his importunate charity. And much
more were they refreshed by their devotion than by the food.
VI. How Friar "Juniper kept silence for six months.
Friar Juniper, on a time, made a vow to keep silence for six months, in
this manner. The first day, for love of the Heavenly Father. The second
day, for love of His Son, Jesus Christ. The third day, for love of the Holy
Ghost. The fourth day, for reverence of the most holy Virgin Mary ; and so
in this order, every day, for six months, he observed silence for love of some
saint.
VII. How to resist temptations of the flesh.
Friar Giles and Friar Simon of Assisi, and Friar RufHno and Friar
Juniper, being on a time gathered together to discourse of God and of the
salvation of the soul, Friar Giles said to the others, " How do ye with
temptations to carnal sin ? " Said Friar Simon, " I consider the baseness and
turpitude of the sin, and then ariseth within me a great horror thereof,
and thus I escape." Saith Friar Ruffino, " I cast me prostrate on the
ground, and so fervently do I continue in prayer, beseeching God's mercy,
and the Mother of Jesus Christ, until I feel me wholly delivered therefrom."
Friar Juniper answers, " When I feel the tumult of this devilish suggestion,
straightway I run and close the door of my heart, and for defence of the
fortress of my heart I occupy me in holy meditations and in holy desires ;
so that when the temptation cometh and knocketh at the door of my heart,
I, as 'twere from within, answer, ' Begone ! for the hostel is already taken,
and herein no more guests can enter ' ; and thus I suffer no thought to enter
within my heart : whereat the devil, seeing himself vanquished, departeth as
one discomfited, not only from me, but from the whole country." Friar Giles
answers, " Friar Juniper, I hold with thee : against the enemy of the flesh
one cannot fight, but only flee ; for within, through the traitorous appetite,
and without, through the senses of the body, the enemy feeleth himself so
mighty that one cannot overcome him save by flight. And, therefore, he
that would fight otherwise seldom hath the victory after the toil of battle.
Flee, then, from vice, and thou shalt be victorious."
VIII. How Friar Juniper abased himself to the glory of God.
On a time Friar Juniper, desiring truly to abase himself, stripped him of
all save his breeches ; and having made a bundle of his habit, placed his
clothes on his head, and entering Viterbo, went to the market-place to be
derided. And standing there, the children and youths of the city, deeming
FRIAR JUNIPER 137
him bereft of his senses, reviled him sorely, casting much mire at him, and
pelting him with stones. Hither and thither they pushed him, with many
mocking words ; and thus persecuted and scorned, he remained for the
greater part of the day : then he went to the friary. And when the friars
beheld him they were full of wrath, most of all for that he had come through
the whole city with his bundle on his head ; and they rebuked him very
severely, uttering great threats. And one said, " Let us cast him into prison."
And another said, " Let us hang him." And the others said, " We cannot
inflict too great a punishment for so evil an example as this friar hath made of
himself this day and of all the Order." And Friar Juniper, right glad,
answered with great humility, " Ye say well, for I am worthy of all these
pains and many more."
IX. How Friar juniper, to abase himself, played at see-saw.
On a time as Friar Juniper was journeying to Rome, where the fame of
his holiness was already noised abroad, many Romans, of their great devotion,
went out to meet him ; and Friar Juniper, beholding so many people coming,
imagined how he might turn their devotion into sport and mockery. Now
there were two children playing at see-saw, to wit, they had placed one log of
wood across another, and each of them sat at his end of the log and see-sawed
up and down. Away goes Friar Juniper and takes off one of these children
from the log, and mounting thereon begins to play see-saw. Meanwhile the
people came up and marvelled to see Friar Juniper see-sawing, yet, with great
devotion, they greeted him and waited for him to end the game of see-saw, in
order to accompany him honourably as far as the friary. And Friar Juniper
heeded little their greetings, their reverence, and their waiting, but held very
diligently to his see-sawing. And waiting thus a long space, certain of them
began to weary thereof, and said, " What a blockhead ! " Others, knowing
his ways, waxed in greater devotion. Nevertheless all departed and left Friar
Juniper on his see-saw. And when they were all gone, Friar Juniper was
left wholly comforted, because he saw that certain of them had mocked at him.
He then set forth and entered Rome, and with all meekness and humility
came to the house of the friars minor.
X. How Friar Juniper once cooked enough food to last the friars a fortnight.
Friar Juniper, being on a time left alone in a small friary, inasmuch as
all the friars, for a certain reasonable cause, had to go out from the friary,
the warden saith to him, " Friar Juniper, all we have to go abroad ; look
to it, therefore, that when we return thou have some dish ready cooked for
138 FRIAR JUNIPER
the refreshment of the friars." Friar Juniper answers, " Right gladly, leave
it to me ! " And all the friars being gone forth, as hath been told, Friar
Juniper saith, " What unprofitable care is this, for one friar to be lost in the
kitchen and far away from all prayer ! Certes, if I am left here to cook, this
time will I cook so much that all the friars, and even more, shall have enough
to eat for a fortnight." And so he goes very diligently to the city and begs
several great cooking pots and pans, and procures fresh meat and salt, fowls
and eggs and pot herbs, and begs much firewood, and puts everything on the
fire, to wit, the fowls with their feathers on, and eggs in their shells, and all
the other things one after the other. When the friars came home, one that
was ware of Friar Juniper's simplicity entered the kitchen and beheld many
great pots and pans on a raging fire. And he sat him down and looked on
with wonderment and said no word, but watched with what great diligence
Friar Juniper went about his cooking. Now the fire was very fierce, and
since he could not get very close to his pots to skim them, he took a wooden
board and bound it closely to his body with his cord, and then leapt from one
pot to another, so that it was a joy to behold. Thinking over these things,
with great delight, this friar comes from the kitchen and seeks the other
friars, and saith, " Friar Juniper is making a wedding feast, I can tell you ! "
But the friars took this for a jest. And Friar Juniper lifted his pots from the
fire and bade ring the bell for supper. And the friars, having taken their
places at table, Friar Juniper comes into the refectory, all ruddy with his toil
and the heat of the fire, with that meal of his, and saith to the friars, " Eat
well, and then let us all to prayers ; and let no one have any care about
cooking for days to come, because I have cooked so much to-day that I shall
have enough to last a fortnight." And he served up his hotch-potch to the
friars at the table, and there is no hog in the whole of Rome hungry enough
to have eaten thereof. Friar Juniper, to push his wares, cries up his cooking,
but seeing that .the other friars eat naught thereof, saith, " Now look you,
fowls such as these are comforting to the brain, and this mess will keep the
body moist, for 'tis right good." And while the friars were lost in wonder-
ment and devotion at the simplicity and devotion of Friar Juniper, lo, the
warden, angry at such folly and at the waste of so much good food, rebuked
Friar Juniper very harshly. Then Friar Juniper dropped straightway on his
knees before the warden and humbly confessed his fault to him and to all the
friars, saying, " I am the worst of men : such a one committed such a crime,
and therefore his eyes were plucked out, but I was more worthy thereof than
FRIAR JUNIPER 139
he : such a one was hanged for his sins, but I deserve it far more for my
wicked deeds : and now have I wasted so much of God's bounty and of the
good things of the Order." And thus he departed, all sorrowing, and all
that day was not seen of any friar. And then the warden said, " My dearest
friars, I would that every day this friar should spoil, even as he hath now, as
many more of our good things, if we had them, solely for our edification ;
for he hath done this thing out of his great simplicity and charity."
XI. How Friar Juniper went on a time to Assisi for his confusion.
On a time, when Friar Juniper was dwelling in the vale of Spoleto,
seeing that there was a solemn festival at Assisi, and that much people were
going thither with great devotion, a desire took him to go to that festival :
and hear how he went. Friar Juniper stripped himself to his breeches, and
thus fared forth, passing through the midst of the city of Spoleto and came
to the friary. The friars, much perturbed and scandalised, rebuked him
very harshly, calling him a mad fellow and a fool that brought confusion
to the Order of St. Francis ; and they would have put him in chains as a
madman. And the general, who was then in the bouse, bade call Friar
Juniper and all the friars, and in the presence of the whole community gave
him a hard and bitter reproof. And after many words of vigorous
condemnation, he spake thus to Friar Juniper, " Thy fault is such, and so
heavy, that I know not what penance to lay upon thee." Friar Juniper
answers, even as one that rejoiced in his own confusion, " Father, I will tell
thee : for penance bid me return, in the same guise as I came hither, to the
place whence I set forth to come to this festival."
XII. How Friar Juniper was rapt in God as he was celebrating mass.
Friar Juniper, on a time, while hearing mass with great devotion,
was rapt in God through the elevation of his mind, and for a long space. And
being left in the room, far away from the other friars, he began, when he
came to himself, to say with great devotion, " O my brethren, who is there
in this life so noble that would not fain carry a bushel of dung through the
whole earth, if a house filled with gold were given to him ? " And he said,
" Ah me ! wherefore are we not willing to endure a little shame, in order
that we may win the blessed life ? "
XIII. Of the grief that Friar Juniper felt at the death of his companion. Friar
Amazialbene.
Friar Juniper had a companion friar that he dearly loved, whose name
was Amazialbene. And truly had this friar the virtue of highest patience
i4o FRIAR JUNIPER
and obedience ; for if he were beaten the whole day long never did he
utter one single word of lamentation or complaint. Often was he sent to
friaries where the whole community was ill to get on with, and from whom
he suffered much persecution ; and this he endured very patiently and with-
out murmuring. He, at the bidding of Friar Juniper, was wont to laugh and
to weep. Now, as it pleased God, this Friar Amazialbene died in the highest
repute ; and Friar Juniper, hearing of his death, felt such great sadness of
spirit as he never in his life had felt for the loss of any material thing. And
he showed forth outwardly the great bitterness that was within him, and
said, " Woe is me ! poor wretch ! now no good thing is left to me, and
all the world is out of joint at the death of my sweet and most beloved
brother Amazialbene. Were it not that I should have no peace with the
other friars, I would go to his grave and take away his head, and with the
skull I would make me two bowls : and from one I would ever eat for
devout memory of him ; and from the other would I drink whenever I
were athirst or had desire to drink."
XIV. Of the hand that Friar Juniper saw in the air.
Friar Juniper, being on a time at prayer, and haply thinking on the
great works he would do, himseemed to behold a hand in the air, and he
heard with his bodily ears a voice that spake to him thus, " O Friar
Juniper, with this hand thou canst do naught." Whereat he straightway
arose and lifted up his eyes to heaven and ran through the friary crying
with a loud voice, " True indeed ! True indeed ! " And this he repeated
for a short space.
XV. How St. Francis bade Friar Leo wash the stone.
When St. Francis was speaking with Friar Leo on the mount of La
Verna, St. Francis said, " Friar, little sheep, wash this stone with water."
And Friar Leo was quick to wash the stone with water. Saith
St. Francis with great joy and gladness, " Wash it with wine." And
'twas done. Saith St. Francis, " Wash it with oil." And this was done.
Saith St. Francis, " Friar, little sheep, wash that stone with balm." Friar
Leo answers, " O sweet father, how shall I obtain balm in this wilderness ? "
St. Francis answered, " Know, friar, thou little sheep of Christ, that this
is the stone whereon Christ sat when He appeared to me here ; therefore
have I bidden thee four times ; wash it, and hold thy peace, for Christ
hath promised me four singular graces for my Order. The first is, that all
those who shall love my Order with all their hearts, and all steadfast friars,
FRIAR GILES 141
shall, by grace divine, make a good end. The second is, that the perse-
cutors of this holy Order shall be notably punished. The third is, that no
evil-doer who remaineth in his perversity can endure long in this Order.
The fourth is, that this Order shall endure until the last judgment."
Here beginneth the Life of the Blessed Friar Giles, the Companion of
St. Francis
I. How Friar Giles and three companions were received into the Order of
the friars minor.
Forasmuch as the example of holy men on the minds of devout hearers is
to make them despise fleeting pleasures and to beget a desire for eternal salva-
tion, I will recite, to the honour of God and of His most reverend Mother,
Madonna St. Mary, and for the profit of all hearers, certain words touching
the work that the Holy Ghost wrought in our holy Friar Giles, who,
while yet wearing the secular habit, was touched by the Holy Ghost, and
began to ponder in his heart how in all his works he might please God
alone. In those days, St. Francis, a new herald of God, sent as an exemplar
of the life of humility and of holy penitence, drew and led, two years after
his conversion, Master Bernard, a man adorned with wondrous prudence and
very rich in worldly goods, and likewise Peter Cattani, to the observance of
the gospel and of holy poverty. And they, by the counsel of St. Francis,
gave away all their worldly treasures to the poor, for love of God, and put
on the glory of meekness and of gospel perfection with the habit of the
friars minor ; and they, with the greatest fervour, promised to keep their
vows all the days of their life : and even so did they with great perfection.
A week after their conversion and the distribution of their goods, Friar
Giles, while yet in the secular habit, beholding such contempt of earthly
things in these two noble knights of Assisi that the whole city was in
amaze thereat, went betimes on the day following (that was the feast of St.
George in the year one thousand two hundred and nine) to the church of
St. Gregory, where was the convent of St. Clare, all enkindled with divine
love and careful for his salvation. And having prayed, he had a great
desire to behold St. Francis, and went towards the lazar-house, where he
was dwelling apart in a hovel, in great humility, with Friar Bernard and
Friar Cattani. And being come to a crossway, and knowing not whither
to turn, he directed his prayer to Christ, our precious Guide, who led him
14^ FRIAR GILES
to the said hovel by the straight way. And while he was pondering on
the reason of this his coming, St. Francis met him as he was returning
from the wood wherein he had gone to pray ; whereupon, anon, he fell on
his knees on the ground before St. Francis, and humbly besought him to
receive him into his company, for love of God. St. Francis, gazing on the
devout aspect of Friar Giles, answered and said, " Dearest brother, God
hath wrought in thee a very great grace. If the emperor came to Assisi,
and would make one of the men of this city his knight, or private
chamberlain, ought he not to rejoice greatly ? How much greater joy
oughtest thou to receive, in that God hath chosen thee for His knight and
most beloved servant, to observe the perfect way of the holy gospel ?
Therefore, be steadfast and constant in the vocation whereto God hath
called thee." And he takes him by the hand and raises him up, and leads
him into the aforesaid hovel ; and he calls Friar Bernard and saith, " Our
Lord and Master hath sent us a good friar, wherefore rejoice we all in the
Lord and eat together in charity." And after they had eaten, St. Francis
went with this Giles to Assisi, to get cloth to make Friar Giles's habit.
And they found a poor woman by the way that begged alms of them for
love of God ; and knowing not how to minister to the poor little woman's
needs, St. Francis turned to Friar Giles with an angelic countenance and said,
" For love of God, dearest brother, let us give this cloak to the poor creature."
And Friar Giles obeyed the holy father with so ready a heart, that
himseemed to behold that alms fly forthwith to heaven ; and Friar Giles
flew with it straightway to heaven, whereat he felt unspeakable joy, and
a renewed heart within him. And St. Francis, having procured the cloth
and made the habit, received Friar Giles into the Order ; and he was one
of the most glorious Religious in the contemplative life the world had ever
seen in those days. After the reception of Friar Giles, anon St. Francis
went with him into the Marches of Ancona, singing with him and magnify-
ing with praise the Lord of heaven and earth ; and he said to Friar Giles,
" Son, our Order shall be like unto the fisher that casteth his net into the
water and taketh a multitude of fishes : and the big fish he holds, and puts
the little ones back into the waters." Friar Giles marvelled at this prophecy,
because there were not yet in the Order more than St. Francis and three
friars ; and albeit St. Francis had not preached to the people in public places,
yet as he went by the way he admonished and corrected both men and
women, saying, with loving simplicity, " Love and fear God, and do fitting
FRIAR GILES 143
penance for your sins." And Friar Giles said, " Do that which my spiritual
father telleth you, for he speaketh excellently well."
II. How Friar Giles went to St. James the Great.
Once in the course of time, Friar Giles went, by leave of St. Francis, to
St. James the Great in Galicia ; and in the whole of that way once only did he
fail to satisfy his hunger, by reason of the great poverty of all that land.
Whereupon, asking alms and finding none that would give him charity, he
happened by chance that evening on a threshing floor, where some few grains
of beans were left : these he gathered up, and these were his supper. And
here he slept that night, for he was ever fain to abide in solitary places, far
from the haunts of men, that he might the better give himself up to prayer
and to vigils. And in that supper he was so greatly comforted by God, that
if he had eaten of divers viands he deemed he would not have eaten so full
a meal. And journeying on, he finds by the way a poor man that craves
alms, for love of God ; and Friar Giles, most charitable of men, having
naught save his habit to cover his body, cut off the cowl from his cloak,
and gave it to that poor man for love of God ; and thus, sans cowl, he
journeyed for twenty days together. And returning by way of Lombardy,
he was hailed by a man, to whom he went right gladly, thinking to re-
ceive some alms of him : and stretching forth his hand, this man put
a pair of dice therein, and invited him to play a game. Friar Giles an-
swered, very humbly, " God forgive thee this, my son." And so journeying
through the world, he was much mocked at, and endured all these things
meekly.
III. Of Friar Giles's way of life when he went to the Holy Sepulchre.
Friar Giles went, by leave of St. Francis, to visit the Holy Sepulchre
of Christ, and came to the port of Brindisi, and there stayed over many days,
for there was no ship ready. And Friar Giles, desiring to live by his labour,
begged a pitcher, and filling it with water, went about the city crying, " Who
lacks water ? " And for his toil he received bread and things needful for the
life of the body, both for himself and for his companion. And then he crossed
the seas, and visited the Holy Sepulchre of Christ, and the other holy places,
with great devotion. And journeying back, he abode many days in the city
of Ancona ; and forasmuch as he was wont to live by the labour of his hands,
he made baskets of rushes and sold them, not for money, but for bread for
himself and for his companion ; and he carried the dead to burial for the
aforesaid price. And when these things failed him, he returned to the table
144 FRIAR GILES
of Jesus Christ, asking alms from door to door. And thus, with much toil
and poverty, he came back to St. Mary of the Angels.
IV. How Friar Giles praised obedience more than prayer.
A friar on a time was at prayer in his cell, and his warden bade tell him,
by obedience, to go questing for alms. Whereupon he straightway went to
Friar Giles and said, " Father mine, I was at prayer, and the warden hath
bidden me go for bread, and meseems 'twere better to remain at prayer."
Friar Giles answered, " My son, hast thou not yet learned or known what
prayer is ? True prayer is to do the will of our superior ; and it is a token
of great pride in him who, having put his neck under the yoke of holy obedi-
ence, refuseth it for any cause, in order to work his own will, even though it
may seem to him that he is working more perfectly. The perfectly obedient
Religious is like unto a knight mounted on a mighty steed, by whose power
he passeth fearlessly through the midst of the fray ; and contrariwise, the
disobedient and complaining and unwilling Religious is like unto one that
is mounted on a lean and infirm and vicious horse, because with a little
striving he is slain or taken by the enemy. I say unto thee, were there a
man of such devotion and exaltation of mind that he spake with angels, and
while thus speaking he were called by his superior, straightway he ought to
leave his converse with the angels and obey his superior."
V. How Friar Giles lived by the labour of his hands.
Friar Giles, being on a time in the friary at Rome, was minded to live by
bodily toil, even as he was ever wont to do since he entered the Order, and he
wrought in this wise : Betimes, in the morning, he heard mass with much
devotion, then he went to the wood that was eight miles distant from Rome
and carried a faggot of wood back on his shoulders, and sold it for bread, or
aught else to eat. One time, among others, when he was returning with a
load of wood, a woman asked to buy it ; and being agreed on the price, he
carried it to her house. The woman, notwithstanding the bargain, gave him
much more than she had promised, for she saw he was a Religious. Saith
Friar Giles, " Good woman, I would not that the sin of avarice overcame me,
therefore I will not take a greater price than I bargained with thee." And
not only would he take no more, but he took only the half of the price agreed
upon, and went his way ; wherefore that woman conceived a very great
devotion for him. Friar Giles did any honest work for hire, and always gave
heed to holy honesty ; he gave a hand to gather olives and to tread the wine-
press for the peasants. Standing on a day in the market-place, a certain man
FRIAR GILES 145
sought hands to beat down his walnuts, and begged one to beat them down
for him, at a price ; but he made excuse, saying it was very far away, and the
trees were very hard to climb. Saith Friar Giles, " Friend, an thou wilt give
me part of the walnuts I will come with thee and beat them down." The
bargain made, he went his way, and, first making the sign of the holy cross, he
climbed up to beat a tall walnut tree with great fear. And after he had
beaten the branches thereof so many walnuts were due to him for his share
that he could not carry them away in his lap. Wherefore he took off his
habit and bound up the sleeves and the cowl, and made a sack thereof, and having
filled this his habit with walnuts, he lifted it on to his shoulder and carried
the walnuts to Rome ; and he gave all to the poor, with great joy, for
love of God. When the corn was cut, Friar Giles went with the other poor
folk to glean some ears ; and if any one offered him a handful of corn he
answered, " Brother, I have no granary wherein to store it." And the ears
of wheat he gleaned he gave away, more often than not, for love of
God. Seldom did Friar Giles work the whole day through, for he always
bargained to have some space of time to say the canonical hours and not fail in
his mental prayers. Once on a time Friar Giles went to the fountain of San
Sisto to draw water for the monks, and a man asked him for a drink. Friar
Giles answers, " And how shall I carry this vessel half filled to the monks ? "
And this man angrily spake many words of contumely and abuse to Friar
Giles : and Friar Giles returned to the monks grieving much. Begging a
large vessel anon he returned to the said fountain for water, and finding that
man again, said to him, " My friend, take and drink as much as thy soul
desireth, and be not angry, for methinks 'tis a base thing to take water that
hath been drunk of, to those holy monks." He, pricked and constrained by
the charity and humility of Friar Giles, confessed his fault, and from that hour
forth held him in great veneration.
VI. How Friar Giles was miraculously provided for in a dire need when,
because of the heavy snow, he could not quest for alms.
Friar Giles, when dwelling with a cardinal at Rome, forasmuch as he had
not the peace of mind he desired, said to the cardinal, as the time of the greater
lent drew nigh, " My father, with your leave I would go, for my peace, with
this my companion, to keep this lent in some solitary place." The cardinal
answers, " Prithee, my dearest friar, whither wouldst thou go ? There is
a sore famine in these parts, and ye are strangers. Ah ! be pleased to remain
at my court, for to me 'twill be a singular grace to have you given whatsoever
T
146
FRIAR GILES
ye may need for love of God." But Friar Giles was minded to go forth,
and he went out of Rome to the top of a high mountain where in days of old
stood a village, and he found there a deserted church that was called St.
Lawrence, and therein he and his companion entered, and remained in prayer
and in many meditations ; and for that they were not known, small reverence
or devotion was shown to them. Wherefore they suffered great want ; and
moreover there fell a great snowstorm that endured many days. They
could not issue from the church, and naught was sent them to live upon,
and of themselves they had no store ; and so they remained, shut in for three
mortal days. Friar Giles, seeing he could not live by his labour, and for
alms could not go forth, said to his companion, " My dearest brother, let
us call on our Lord Jesus Christ with a loud voice, that of His pity He may
provide for us in this sore extremity and need ; for certain monks, being
in dire need, have called on God, and divine providence did provide for them
in their needs." And after the example of these, they betook them to prayer,
and besought God, with all affection, that He would provide a remedy in
so sore a need. God, that is all-pitiful, had regard to their faith and devotion
and simplicity and fervour in this wise : A certain man was looking towards
the church where Friar Giles and his companion were, and being inspired
by God, said within himself, " Haply in that church there be some good souls
doing penance and, in this season of heavy snows, have naught for their needs,
and by reason thereof may die of hunger." And urged by the Holy Ghost he
said, " Certes, I will go and learn if my foreboding be true or not." And
he took some loaves and a vessel of wine and set forth on his journey, and with
very great difficulty he won his way to the aforesaid church, where he found
Friar Giles and his companion devoutly engaged in prayer ; and they were so
ravaged by hunger that in their aspect they had the semblance of dead rather
than of living men. He had great compassion on them, and having refreshed
and comforted them, he returned and told his neighbours of the extreme
poverty and need of these friars, and besought them, for love of God, to
provide for them ; whereupon many, after the example of this man, brought
them bread and wine and other necessaries to eat, for love of God ; and through
all that lent they ordered among themselves that the needs of these friars
should be provided for. And Friar Giles, considering the great mercy of
God and the charity of these folk, said to his companion, " My dearest brother,
but now have we prayed to God to provide for us in our need, and we have
been heard ; therefore it is meet that we return thanks and glory to Him and
FRIAR GILES 147
pray for thcke that have fed us with their alms., and for all Christian folk."
And by his great fervour and devotion, so much grace was given by God
to Friar Giles that many, by his example, forsook this blind world, and many
others that were not called to take up the religious life did very great penance
in their homes. v£/
VII. Touching the day of the holy Friar Giles's death.
On St. George's eve, at the hour of matins, these fifty-two years agone,
the soul of Friar Giles, for that he had received the habit of St. Francis
in the first days of the month, was received by God into the glory of paradise,
to wit, on the feast of St. George.
VIII. How a holy man being at prayer saw the soul of Friar Giles go to life
everlasting.
A good man being at prayer when Friar Giles passed from this life,
saw his soul, together with a multitude of souls, come out of purgatory and
ascend to heaven ; and he beheld Jesus Christ come forth to meet the soul
of Friar Giles, and with a multitude of angels, and with all those souls ascend
with sweet melody into the glory of paradise.
IX. How the soul of a friar preacher s friend was delivered from the pains
of purgatory through the merits of Friar Giles.
When Friar Giles lay sick so that in a few days he died, a Dominican
friar fell sick unto death. And he had a friend that was also a friar, who,
seeing him draw nigh unto death, said to the sick man, " My brother, I
desire, if it be God's will, that after thy death thou return to me and tell me
in what state thou mayst be." The sick friar promised to return whensoever
it might be possible. The sick man died on the selfsame day as Friar Giles,
and after his death he appeared to the living friar preacher, and said, " 'Twas
God's will that I should keep my promise to thee." Saith the living friar
to the dead, " How fares it with thee ? " The dead friar answered, " 'Tis well
with me, for I died on a day whereon a holy friar minor passed from this
life whose name was Friar Giles, and to him for his great holiness Christ
granted that he should lead all the souls that were in purgatory to holy
paradise, among which souls was I, in great torments ; and through the
merits of the holy Friar Giles I am delivered therefrom." This said, he
forthwith vanished ; and the friar revealed that vision to no man. This said
friar fell sick ; and anon deeming that God had smitten him because he had
not revealed the virtue and the glory of Friar Giles, he sent for the friars minor,
and there came to him five couples of them ; and having called them, together
148
ON VICES
with the preaching friars, he declared the aforesaid vision to them with great
devotion, and seeking very diligently they found that on that selfsame day
these twain had passed from this life.
X. How God had given certain graces to Friar Giles and of the day of his
death.
Friar Bonaventura of Bagnoreggio was wont to say of Friar Giles that God
had given and vouchsafed singular grace to him for all those that commended
themselves to him, with devout intent, in the things that appertained to the
soul. He wrought many miracles during his life and after his death, as ap-
peareth from his legend ; and he passed from this life to supernal glory, in the
year of our Lord one thousand two hundred and fifty-two, on the day of the
feast of St. George ; and he is buried at Perugia, in the house of the friars
minor.
Here beginneth the Chapters of Certain Doctrines and Notable Sayings of
Friar Giles
I. Chapter of vices and virtues.
The grace of God and the virtues are the way and the ladder whereby we
ascend to heaven ; but the vices and the sins are the way and the ladder
whereby we descend to the depths of hell. Vices and sins are poison and
deadly venom ; but virtues and good works are healing treacle.1 One grace
bringeth and draweth after it another. Grace desireth not to be praised, and
vice cannot endure to be despised. That mind is at peace that resteth in
humility : patience is her daughter. Holy purity of heart seeth God ; but
true devotion savoureth him. If thou lovest, thou shalt be loved. If thou
servest, thou shalt be served. If thou fearest, thou shalt be feared. If thou
bearest thyself well towards others, it behoves that others bear themselves well
towards thee. But blessed is he that truly loveth and desireth not to be loved.
Blessed is he that serveth and desireth not to be served. Blessed is he that
feareth and desireth not to be feared. Blessed is he that beareth himself well
towards others, and desireth not that others bear themselves well towards him.
But forasmuch as these things are exceeding high, and of great perfection, the
fool can neither know them nor attain to them. Three things are exceeding
high and useful, and he that shall have attained to them shall never fall. The
1 Compare Chaucer, " Christ which that is to every harm treacle." The Venetians were famed
for their skilful preparation of this medicinal compound, which was universally regarded in the Middle
Ages as an antidote against snake bites and other poisons.
AND VIRTUES 149
first is, if thou endure willingly, and with gladness, every tribulation that shall
befall thee, for love of Jesus Christ. The second is, if thou humble thyself
every day in all things that thou doest, and in all things that thou seest. The
third is, if thou love steadfastly, and with all thy heart, that highest celestial
and invisible good, which cannot be seen with mortal eyes. Those things that
are most despised and most reviled by worldly men are verily most acceptable
and pleasing to God and to His saints ; and those things that are most
honoured and most loved and are most pleasing to worldly men, those are
most despised and scorned and most hated by God and by His saints. This
foul unseemliness proceedeth from the ignorance and the wickedness of men,
for the wretched man loveth most those things he should hate, and hateth
those things he should love. Once on a time, Friar Giles asked another
friar, saying, " Tell me, dearest, is thine a good soul ? " That friar answered,
" This I know not." Then said Friar Giles, " My brother, I would have
thee to know that holy contrition and holy humility and holy charity and
holy devotion and holy joy make the good and blessed soul.
II. Chapter of faith.
All things whatsoever that can be thought in the heart or told with the
tongue, or seen with the eyes, or touched with the hands — all are as naught
in respect of, and in comparison with, those things that cannot be thought,
nor seen, nor touched. All the saints and all the sages that have passed away,
and all those that are in this present life, and all that shall come after us, that
spake or wrote, or that shall speak or write, of God, ne'er told nor e'er can tell
of God so much as a grain of millet would be in respect of, or in comparison
with, the heavens and the earth, nay, even a thousand thousandfold less. For
all scripture that speaketh of God, speaketh of Him with stammering voice, as
the mother doth who prattles with her child, that could not understand her
words if she spake in other fashion. Friar Giles said, on a time, to a worldly
judge, " Believest thou that the gifts of God are great ? " The judge answered,
"Yea, I believe." Whereat Friar Giles said, "I will show thee how that
thou believest not faithfully." And then he said to him, " What price is all
thou possessest in this world worth ? " The judge answered, " 'Tis worth,
perchance, a thousand pounds." Then said Friar Giles, " Wouldst thou give
these thy possessions for ten thousand pounds ? " The judge answered, without
delay, " Verily, that would I." And Friar Giles said, " Certain it is that all
the possessions of this world are as naught in respect to heavenly things ;
therefore, why givest thou not these thy possessions to Christ, that thou mayst
150 ON HOLY HUMILITY
buy those possessions that are celestial and eternal ? " Then that judge, wise
with the foolish wisdom of the world, made answer to the pure and simple
Friar Giles, " God hath filled thee with wise and divine foolishness. Thinkest
thou, Friar Giles, that there lives a man whose outward works accord with
all he believes in his inmost heart ? " Friar Giles answered, " Look now, my
dearest, it is very truth that all the saints have striven to fulfil by their works
those things they were able to comprehend or to know were the will of God,
according to their power. And all those things they were not able to fulfil
by their works, these they fulfilled by the holy desire of their will ; in such
wise, that what was lacking in their works by reason of their defect of
power, this they fulfilled by the desire of their soul : and they were not
found wanting." Yet again Friar Giles said, " If any man could be found
of perfect faith, in short time he would attain to the perfect state, whereby full
assurance of his salvation would be given him. What hurt or what ill could
any temporal adversity in this present life do to that man who, with stead-
fast faith, awaiteth this eternal and supreme and highest good ? And the
miserable man, that everlasting torment awaiteth, what could any prosperity,
or temporal possession, in this world avail him ? Yet how grievous a sinner
soever a man may be, let him not despair, while he yet liveth, of the infinite
mercy of God ; for there is no tree in this world so full of thorns, nor so
knotted nor so gnarled, but that men cannot plane it and polish it and adorn
it, and make it fair to look upon. Even so, there is no man in this world so
sunk in iniquity, nor so great a sinner, but that God can convert him and
adorn him with peculiar grace, and with many virtuous gifts.
III. Chapter of holy humility.
No man can attain to any knowledge or understanding of God, save by
the virtue of holy humility ; for the straight way downward is the straight
way upward. All the perils and the great falls that have come to pass in this
world have come about for no cause save the lifting up of the head, to wit, of
the mind, in pride ; and this is proven by the fall of the devil, that was cast
out of heaven ; and by the fall of our first parent, Adam, who was driven out
of paradise through the exaltation of the head, to wit, through disobedience ;
and again by the Pharisee, whereof Christ speaketh in the gospel, and by many
other ensamples. And so contrariwise : for all the great and good things that
have ever come to pass in this world, have come to pass through the abasement
of the head, to wit, through the humility of the mind, even as is proven by
the blessed and most humble Virgin Mary, and by the publican, and by the
ON HOLY HUMILITY 151
holy thief on the cross, and by many other ensamples in the scriptures. And,
therefore, it were well if we could find some great and heavy weight that we
might ever hang about our necks, in order that it might ever bear us down, to
wit, that it might ever make us humble ourselves. A friar asked Friar Giles,
" Tell me, father, how shall we flee from this sin of pride ? " To whom Friar
Giles answered, " My brother, be persuaded of this : never hope to be able to
flee from pride, except thou first place thy mouth where thou hast set thy
feet ; but if thou wilt consider well the blessings of God, then shalt thou know
that of thy duty thou art held to bow thy head. And, again, if thou wilt
think much on thy faults and on thy manifold offences against God, most of
all wilt thou have cause to humble thyself. But woe unto those that would be
honoured for their wickedness ! One degree in humility hath he risen who
knoweth himself to be the enemy of his own good; another degree in humility,
is to render to others those things that are theirs, and not to appropriate them
to ourselves, to wit, that every good thing and every virtue a man findeth in
himself, he ought not to own it to himself, but to God alone, from whom
proceedeth every grace and every virtue and every good thing ; but all sin or
passion of the soul, or whatsoever vice a man find in himself, this should he
own to himself, since it proceedeth from himself and from his own wickedness,
and not from others. Blessed is that man that knoweth himself, and deemeth
himself vile in the sight of God, and even so in the sight of men. Blessed is
he that ever judgeth himself and condemneth himself, and not others, for he
shall not be judged at that dread and last judgment eternal. Blessed is he that
shall bend diligently under the yoke of obedience and under the judgment of
others, even as the holy apostles did before and after they received the Holy
Spirit." Likewise said Friar Giles, " He that would gain and possess perfect
peace and rest must needs account every man his superior ; he must ever hold
himself the subject and inferior of others. Blessed is that man who in his
deeds and in his words desireth not to be seen or known, save only in that
unalloyed being, and in that simple adornment which God created and adorned
him with. Blessed is the man that knoweth how to treasure up and hide
divine revelations and consolations, for there is nothing so hidden but that
God shall reveal it, when it pleaseth Him. If a man were the most
perfect and the holiest man in the world, and yet deemed and believed himself
the most miserable of sinners and the vilest wretch on the earth — therein is
true humility. Holy humility knoweth not how to prate, and the blessed
fear of God knoweth not how to speak." Said Friar Giles, " Methinks
152 ON HOLY FEAR OF GOD
humility is like unto a thunderbolt ; for even as the bolt maketh a terrible
crash, breaking, crushing, and burning all that it findeth in its path, and
then naught of that bolt is found, so, in like manner, humility smiteth and
scattereth and burneth and consumeth every wickedness and every vice
and every sin ; and yet is found to be naught in itself. The man that
possesseth humility findeth grace in the sight of God, through that humility,
and perfect peace with his neighbour."
IV. Chapter of the holy fear of God.
He that feareth naught showeth that he hath naught to lose. The
holy fear of God ordaineth, governeth, and ruleth the soul and maketh it
to come to a state of grace. If any man possess any grace or divine virtue,
holy fear is that which preserveth it. And he that hath not yet gained virtue
or grace, holy fear maketh him to gain it. The holy fear of God is the
bringer of divine graces, for it maketh the soul, wheresoever she abideth,
to attain quickly to holy virtue and divine graces. All creatures that have
fallen into sin would never have fallen if they had had the holy fear of God.
But this holy gift of fear is given only to the perfect ; for the more perfect
a man is, the more godfearing and humble he is. Blessed is he that knoweth
he is in a dungeon in this world, and ever remembereth how grievously he
hath offended his Lord. A man ought ever to fear pride with a great fear,
lest it thrust against him and make him fall from the state of grace wherein he
standeth ; for a man can never stand secure being girt about with enemies ;
and our enemies are the seductions of this miserable world and our own
flesh that, together with the devil, is ever the enemy of the soul. A man
hath need of greater fear lest his own wickedness overcome him and
beguile him than of any other of his enemies. It is impossible that a man
can rise and ascend to any divine grace, or virtue, or persevere therein, without
holy fear. He that feareth not God goeth in danger of perishing, and in yet
greater peril of everlasting perdition. The fear of God maketh a man to obey
humbly, and maketh him bow down his head under the yoke of obedi-
ence ; and the greater the fear a man hath, the more fervently doth
he worship. Not a little gift is prayer to whosoever it is given.
The virtuous works of men, however great they may appear to me, are not
therefore accounted nor rewarded according to our measure, but according
to the measure and good pleasure of God ; for God regardeth not the sum of
our toils, but the sum of our love and humility. Therefore, the better part
for us is to love always, and fear with great humility, and never put trust in
ON HOLY PATIENCE 153
ourselves for any good thing ; ever having suspicion of those thoughts that
are begotten in the mind under the semblance of good.
V. Chapter of holy patience.
He that with steadfast humility and patience sufFereth and endureth
tribulation, through fervent love of God, soon shall attain to great grace
and virtues, and shall be lord of this world, and shall have a foretaste of the
next and glorious world. Everything that a man doeth, good or evil, he
doeth it unto himself; therefore, be not offended with him that doeth
thee an injury, for rather oughtest thou to have humble patience with
him, and only grieve within thee for his sin, taking compassion on him
and praying God earnestly for him. So far as a man is strong to endure
and suffer patiently injuries and tribulations, for love of God, so great is
he in the sight of God, and no more ; and the weaker a man is to endure
pain and adversity, for love of God, the less is he in the sight of God.
If any man praise thee, speaking well of thee, render thou that praise to
God alone ; and if any man speak evil of thee, or revile thee, aid thou him,
speaking evil of thyself, and worse. If thou wilt make good thine own
cause, strive ever to make it appear ill, and uphold thy fellow's cause, ever
imputing guilt to thyself, and ever praising and truly excusing thy neighbour.
When any man would contend to have the law of thee, if thou wouldst
win, lose ; and then shalt thou win ; but if thou wouldst go to law to win,
when thou thinkest to win, then shalt thou find thou has lost heavily.
Therefore, my brother, believe of a surety that the way of loss is the
straight way to salvation. But when we are not good bearers of tribulation,
then we cannot be seekers after everlasting consolations. Much greater
consolation and a more worthy thing it is to suffer injuries and revilings
patiently, without murmuring, for love of God, than to feed a hundred
poor folk and fast continually every day. But how shall it profit a man,
or what shall it avail him, to despise himself and afflict his body with great
fastings and vigils and scourgings, if he be unable to endure a small injury from
his neighbour ? For which thing, a man shall receive a much greater reward
and greater merit than for all the afflictions a man can give to himself of his
own will ; because to endure the revilings and injuries of one's neighbour,
with humble patience and without murmuring, purgeth sin away much more
quickly than doth a fount of many tears. Blessed is the man that ever holdeth
the memory of his sins and the good gifts of God before the eyes of the mind ;
for he will endure with patience every tribulation and adversity, whereby he
154 ON HOLY PATIENCE
looketh for great consolations. The truly humble man looketh for no reward
nor merit from God, but striveth ever only how he can give satisfaction in all
things, owning himself God's debtor : and every good thing he hath, that, he
knoweth he hath through the goodness of God, and not through any merit of
his own ; and every adversity he endureth, he knoweth it to be truly because
of his sins. A certain friar asked Friar Giles, saying, " If in our time any
great adversity, or tribulation, should befall, what should we do in that case ? "
To whom Friar Giles answered, saying, " My brother, I would have thee
know that if the Lord rained down stones and arrows from heaven, they could
not injure nor do any hurt to us, if we were such men as we ought to be ; for
if a man were verily what he ought to be, he would transmute every evil and
every tribulation into good ; for we know what the apostle said, that all things
work together for good to them that love God : even so all things work
together for ill and to the condemnation of him that hath an evil will. If
thou wilt save thyself and go to celestial glory, thou shalt desire no vengeance
nor punishment of any creature ; for the heritage of the saints is ever to do
good and ever to suffer evil. If thou knewest in very truth how grievously
thou hast offended thy Creator, thou wouldst know that it is a worthy and just
thing that all creatures should persecute thee and give thee pain and tribula-
tion, in order that these creatures might take vengeance for the offences thou
hast done to their Creator. A high and great virtue it is for a man to over-
come himself; for he that overcometh himself shall overcome all his enemies,
and attain to all good. And yet a greater virtue would it be if a man suffered
himself to be overcome by all men ; for he would be lord over all his enemies,
to wit, his vices, the devil, the world, and his own flesh. If thou wilt save thyself,
renounce and despise all consolation that the things of this world and all mortal
creatures can give thee ; for greater and more frequent are the falls that come
through prosperity and through consolation than are those that come through
adversity and tribulation. Once on a time a Religious was murmuring against
his superior, in the presence of Friar Giles, by reason of a harsh obedience he
had laid upon him ; to whom Friar Giles said, " My dearest, the more thou
murmurest the heavier is the weight of thy burden, and the harder shall it be
to thee to bear ; and the more humbly and devoutly thou bendest thy neck
under the yoke of holy obedience, the lighter and easier will that obedience be
to bear. But methinks thou wouldst not be rebuked in this world, for love of
Christ, and yet wouldst be with Christ in the next world ; thou wouldst not
be persecuted or cursed for Christ's sake in this world, and in the next, wouldst
ON SLOTH 155
be blessed and received by Christ ; thou wouldst not labour in this world, and
in the next, wouldst rest and be at peace. I tell thee, friar, friar, thou art
sorely beguiled ; for by the way of poverty and of shame and of reviling a man
cometh to true celestial honour ; and by enduring patiently, mocking and
cursing, for love of Christ, a man shall come to the glory of Christ. There-
fore, well saith a worldly proverb,
He whose gifts cost him no woe,
Good gifts from others must forgoe.
How useful is the nature of the horse ! for how swiftly soever the horse
runneth, he yet letteth himself be ruled and guided, and leapeth hither and
thither, and forward and backward, according to the will of his rider : and so,
likewise, ought the servant of God to do, to wit, he should let himself be ruled,
guided, turned aside, and bent, according to the will of his superior, or of any
other man, for love of Christ. If thou wouldst be perfect, strive diligently to
be full of grace and virtue, and fight valiantly against vice, enduring patiently
every adversity for the love of thy Lord, who was mocked and afflicted and
reviled and scourged and crucified and slain for love of thee, and not for His
own sin, nor for His glory, nor for His profit, but only for thy salvation.
And to do all this that I have told thee, above all things it is necessary that
thou overcome thyself ; for little shall it profit a man to lead and draw souls to
God, if first he overcome not himself, and lead and draw himself to God."
VI. Chapter of sloth.
The slothful man loseth both this world and the next ; for himself
beareth no fruit and he profiteth not another. It is impossible for a man
to gain virtue without diligence and great toil. When thou canst abide in
a safe place stand not in a perilous place : he abideth in a safe place who
striveth and suffereth and worketh and toileth through God, and for the Lord
God ; and not through fear of punishment, or for a price, but for love of God.
The man that refuseth to suffer and labour for love of Christ, verily he refuseth
the glory of Christ ; and even as diligence is useful and profitable to us, so is
negligence ever against us. Even as sloth is the way that leads to hell, so is
holy diligence the way that leads to heaven. A man ought to be very diligent
to gain and keep virtue and the grace of God, ever labouring faithfully with
this grace and virtue ; for many times it befalleth that the man who laboureth
not faithfully loseth the fruit for the leaves, or the grain for the straw. To
some God giveth of His grace, good fruit with few leaves ; to others He giveth
fruit and leaves together ; and there are others that have neither fruit nor
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ON SLOTH
leaves. Methinks 'tis a greater thing to know how to guard and keep well
the good gifts and graces given to us by the Lord, than to know how to gain
them. For albeit a man may know well how to gain, yet if he know not
how to save and treasure up, he shall never be rich ; but some there be that
make their gains little by little, and are grown rich because they save well
their gains and their treasure. Oh, how much water would the Tiber have
stored up if it flowed not away to the sea ! Man asketh of God an infinite
gift, without measure and without bounds, and yet will not love God, save
with measure and with bounds. He that would be loved of God and have
infinite reward from Him, beyond all bounds and beyond all measure, let him
love God beyond all bounds and beyond all measure, and ever serve Him
infinitely. Blessed is he that loveth God with all his heart and with all his
mind, and ever afflicteth his body and his mind for love of God, seeking no
reward under heaven, but accounting himself only a debtor. If a man were
in sore poverty and need, and another man said to him, " I will lend thee a
very precious thing for the space of three days : know that if thou use well
this thing within this term of three days thou shalt gain an infinite treasure,
and be rich evermore," is it not a sure thing that this poor man would be very
careful to use well and diligently this thing so precious, and would strive much
to make it fruitful and profit him well : so do I say likewise that this thing
lent unto us by the hand of God is our body, which the good God hath lent
us for three days ; for all our times and years are but as three days in the sight
of God. Therefore if thou wouldst be rich and enjoy the divine sweetness
everlastingly, strive to labour well and make this thing, lent by the hand of
God, bear good fruit ; to wit, thy body, in this space of three days ; to wit, in the
brief time of thy life : for if thou art not careful of gain in this present life, while
thou hast yet time, thou shalt not enjoy that everlasting riches nor find holy rest
in that celestial peace everlastingly. But if all the possessions of the world were
in the hands of one person who never turned them to account himself, nor put
them out for others to use, what fruit or what profit would he have of those
things ? Of a surety, neither profit nor fruit would he have. But it might well
be that a man, having few possessions and using them well, should have much
profit and a great abundance of fruit for himself and for others. A worldly pro-
verb saith, " Never set an empty pot on the fire hoping thy neighbour will fill it."
And so likewise God willeth that no grace be left empty; for the good God never
giveth a grace to any man that it be kept empty, rather doth he give it that a
man may use it and bring forth fruit of good works ; for good-will sufficeth
ON SLOTH 157
not except a man strive to pursue it and use it to a profit of holy works. On
a time a wayfarer said to Friar Giles, " Father, I pray thee give me some
consolation." Whereto Friar Giles answered, " My brother, strive to stand
well with God and straightway shalt thou have the consolation thou needest ;
for if a man make not a pure dwelling-place ready in his soul, wherein God
may abide and rest, never shall he find an abiding place nor rest nor true
consolation in any creature. When a man would work evil he never asketh
much counsel for the doing thereof; but many folk seek much counsel and
make long delay ere they do good." Once Friar Giles said to his companions,
" My brethren, methinks, in these days, one findeth no man that would do
those things that he seeth are most profitable, and not only for the soul but
also for the body. Believe me, my brethren, I can swear of a truth, that the
more a man flees and shuns the burden and the yoke of Christ the more
grievous he maketh it to himself and the more heavily it weigheth upon him,
and the greater is the burden ; but the more ardently a man taketh up his
burden, ever heaping up more weight of his own will, the lighter and the more
pleasant he feeleth it to bear. Would to God that men would labour to win
the good things of the body, since they would win also those of the soul ;
forasmuch as the body and the soul, without any doubt, must ever be joined
together, either to suffer or to enjoy ; to wit, either ever to suffer together ever-
lasting pains and boundless torments in hell, or, through the merits of good
works, to enjoy perpetual joys and ineffable consolations with the saints and
angels in paradise. Because, if a man laboured well, or forgave well, yet lacked
humility, his good deeds would be turned to evil ; for many have there been
that have wrought many works that seemed good and praiseworthy, but
since they lacked humility they were discovered and known to be done
through pride ; and their deeds have shown this, for things done through
humility are never corrupted." A friar said to Friar Giles, " Father, methinks
we know not yet how to understand our own good." To whom Friar Giles
answered, " My brother, of a surety each man worketh the art he hath learned,
for no man can work well except he have first learned : wherefore I would
have thee know, my brother, that the noblest art in this world is the art of
working well ; and who could know that art except first he learn it ? Blessed
is that man in whom no created thing can beget evil ; but yet more blessed
is he that receiveth in himself good edification from all things he sees or
hears."
158 ON HOLY CHASTITY
VII. Chapter of the contempt of temporal things.
Many sorrows and many woes will the miserable man suffer that putteth
his desire and his heart and his hope in earthly things, whereby he forsaketh
and loseth heavenly things, and at last shall e'en lose also these earthly things. The
eagle soareth very high, but if she had tied a weight to her wings she would not
be able to fly very high : and even so because of the weight of earthly things a
man cannot fly on high, to wit, he cannot attain to perfection ; but the wise
man that bindeth the weight of the remembrance of death and judgment to
the wings of his heart, could not for the great fear thereof go astray nor fly
at the vanities nor riches of this world, which are a cause of damnation.
Every day we see worldly men toil and moil much and encounter great bodily
perils to gain these false riches ; and after they have toiled and gained much;
in a moment they die and leave behind all that they gained in their lives ;
therefore put not thy trust in this false world that beguileth every man that
believeth therein, for it is a liar. But whoso desireth and would be great and
truly rich, let him seek after and love everlasting riches and good things, that
ever savour sweetly and never satiate and never grow less. If we would not go
astray, let us take pattern from the beasts and the birds, for these, when they are
fed, are content and seek not their living save from hour to hour when their
need cometh : even so should a man be content with satisfying his needs
temperately, and not seek after superfluities. Friar Giles said that the ant
was not so pleasing to St. Francis as other living things because of the great
diligence she hath in gathering together and storing up, in the time of
summer, a treasure of grain for the winter ; but he was wont to say that the
birds pleased him much more, because they laid not up one day for the next.
But yet the ant teacheth us that we ought not to be slothful in the summer
of this present life, so that we be not found empty and barren in the winter of
the last day and judgment.
VIII. Chapter of holy chastity.
Our miserable and frail human flesh is like unto the swine that ever
rejoiceth to wallow and bemire himself in filth, choosing the mire for his own
delight. Our flesh is the devil's knight-errant, for it fighteth and resisteth all
those things that pertain to God and to our salvation. A friar asked Friar
Giles, saying unto him, " Father, teach me in what manner we may guard
ourselves from carnal sin." To whom Friar Giles answered, " My brother, he
that would move any great weight or any great stone from one place to
another, it behoveth him to strive to move it by skill rather than by force.
ON TEMPTATION 159
And so likewise, if we will overcome carnal sin and gain the virtue of chastity,
we shall rather gain it by humility and by good and discreet spiritual guidance,
than by our presumptuous austerities and by the violence of penance. Every
sin cloudeth and darkens holy and shining chastity, for chastity is like unto a
bright mirror that is clouded and darkened, not only by the touch of foul
things, but also by the breath of man. It is impossible for a man to attain to
any spiritual grace so long as he findeth him inclined to carnal lust ; therefore,
thou mayst turn and turn again, as it please thee, and thou shalt find no other
remedy, nor be able to attain to spiritual grace, except thou trample under foot
every carnal sin. Therefore, fight valiantly against thy sensual and frail flesh,
thy proper enemy, that ever striveth against thee, day and night ; let him that
overcometh this flesh, our mortal foe, know of a surety that he hath overcome
and routed all his enemies, and soon shall attain to spiritual grace and to every
good state of virtue and of perfection." Said Friar Giles, " Among all the
other virtues I most do prize the virtue of chastity ; for sweetest chastity hath
in itself alone some perfection ; but no other virtue can be perfect without
chastity." A friar asked Friar Giles, saying, " Father, is not charity a greater
and more excellent virtue than chastity ? " And Friar Giles said, " Tell me,
brother, what thing in this world is found more chaste than holy charity ? "
Many a time did Friar Giles chant this canticle —
O holy chastity,
How great a good thou holdest !
How precious to possess !
For such sweet fragrance issueth forth from thee,
The taste thereof the wise alone can know :
Therefore the foolish never learn thy worth.
A friar asked Friar Giles, saying, " Father, thou that commendest so the
virtue of chastity, prithee make plain to me what chastity is." Whereto
Friar Giles answered, " My brother, I tell thee that the diligent custody and
continual watching of our bodily and spiritual senses, keeping them pure and
spotless before God — that is truly called chastity."
IX. Chapter of temptations.
The great graces that a man receiveth from God cannot be possessed in
peace and quietness, for many contrary things and many tribulations and many
adversities rise up against these graces, because the more acceptable a man is
in the sight of God, the more mightily is he assailed and warred against by the
devil. Therefore it behoveth a man never to cease from fighting, that he may
pursue that grace he hath received from God ; for the fiercer the battle the
i6o ON TEMPTATION
more precious shall be the crown, if he conquer in the fight. But we have
not many battles, nor many hindrances, nor many temptations ; for we are not
such as we ought to be in the spiritual life. But, nevertheless, true it is that
if a man walk warily and well in the way of God, he shall have neither toil
nor weariness on his journey ; but the man that walketh in the way of the
world shall ne'er be able to flee from the many toils, the weariness, the anguish,
the tribulations and sorrows, even to the day of his death. Said a friar to
Friar Giles, " My father, methinks thou sayest two things, one contrary to
the other ; for thou didst first say that the more virtuous a man is in the
sight of God, the more hindrances and the more battles he hath in the spiri-
tual life, and then thou saidst the contrary ; to wit, that the man who walked
warily and well in the way of God would feel neither toil nor weariness on his
journey." Whereto Friar Giles made plain the contrariness of these two sayings,
and answered thus, " My brother, of a surety the devils assail men of good will
with mightier temptations than they do others that have not good will, I
mean, in the sight of God. But the man that walketh warily and fervently in
the way of God, what toil, what weariness, and what hurt can the devils and
all the adversities of the world bring on him ? Doth he not know and see
that he selleth his wares for a price a thousandfold higher than they are worth ?
But I tell thee more : of a surety he that were kindled with the fire of divine
love, the more mightily he were assailed by sins, the more would he hate and
abominate them. The worst devils are wont to pursue and tempt a man when
he is weighed down by some infirmity or ^bodily weakness, or by great cold, or
anguish, or when he is ahungered or athirst, or when he hath suffered some
injury, or shame, or temporal or spiritual hurt ; for these evil spirits know that
it is in hours and moments such as these that a man is more apt to receive
temptations. But I say unto thee that for every temptation and for every sin
thou overcomest thou shalt gain a virtue ; and that if thou conquer the sin
that warreth against thee, thou shalt receive therefore the greater grace and
a greater crown of victory." A friar asked counsel of Friar Giles, saying,
" Father, ofttimes am I tempted by a sore temptation, and oft have I prayed
to God to be delivered therefrom, and yet the Lord taketh it not away from
me. Give me thy counsel, father, what ought I to do ? " Whereto Friar
Giles answered, " My brother, the more richly a king harnesseth his knights
with noble armour and strong, the more valiantly he desireth they should fight
against his enemies, for love of him." A friar asked Friar Giles, saying,
" Father, what remedy can I find that I may go more willingly to prayer and
ON TEMPTATION 161
with a more fervent desire ? for when I go to pray, I am hard, slothful,
withered, and slack." Whereto Friar Giles answered, saying, " A king hath
two servants, and the one is armed for battle, but the other hath no arms
wherewith to fight ; and both would go forth to battle and fight against the
enemies of the king. He that is armed goeth forth to battle and fighteth
valiantly ; but the other that is unarmed saith thus to his lord, ' My lord,
thou seest I am naked and without arms, but for love of thee fain would I
join the battle and fight thus unarmed as I am.' And then the good king,
beholding the love of his trusty servant, saith to his ministers, ' Go with this
my servant, clothe him with all those arms that are needful for the fight, in
order that he may hie securely forth to battle ; and mark ye all his arms with
my royal scutcheon, that he be known as my trusty knight.' And even
so, ofttimes it befalleth a man, when he goeth forth to pray and findeth
himself naked, indevout, slothful, and hardened in spirit ; but, nevertheless,
let him gird himself, for love of the Lord, and go forth to the battle of
prayer ; and then our good King and Lord, beholding the wrestling of his
knight, giveth him fervent devotion and good will by the hands of His minis-
tering angels. Some time this befalleth : a man setteth about some great
work of heavy labour, as to clear and till the ground, or a vineyard, that in
due season he may be able to gather the fruit thereof. And many men,
because of the great labour and the many toils, grow a-weary and repent them
of the work they have begun ; but if a man sweat and toil till the time of
harvest, then he forgetteth all his heaviness ; he is consoled and glad, behold-
ing the fruit he shall enjoy. Even so, a man that is strong under tempta-
tions shall attain to many consolations ; for after tribulation, saith St. Paul,
cometh consolation and the crown of eternal life : and not only in heaven
shall the reward be given to them that resist temptation, but also in this life,
even as the psalmist saith, ' Lord, in the multitude of my temptations and my
sorrows thy comforts delight my soul ; ' so that the greater the temptation
and the fight, the more glorious shall be the crown." A friar asked counsel of
Friar Giles touching a temptation, saying, " O father, I am tempted by two
sore temptations : one is, that when I do some good thing, anon I am tempted
by vainglory ; the other is, when I work any evil I fall into such sadness and
such dejection that I well-nigh sink into despair." Whereto Friar Giles
answered, " My brother, well dost thou and wisely to grieve for thy sin,
but I counsel thee to grieve temperately and discreetly, and ever shouldst thou
remember that God's mercy is greater than thy sin. But if, in His infinite
IÓ2 ON HOLY PENITENCE
mercy, God accepteth the repentance of a man that is a great sinner and one
that sinneth wilfully, when he repents, thinkest thou this good God will
forsake the good sinner that sinneth against his will, when he is contrite and
repentant ? I counsel thee, also, faint not in well-doing through fear of vain-
glory ; for if a man said, when he should sow his seed, ' I will not sow, for if
I were to sow, haply the birds would come and eat thereof ; and, if saying
thus, he sowed not his seed, of a surety he would gather no corn that year.
But if he sowed his seed, albeit the birds did eat of that seed, yet the labourer
would reap the greater part ; even so a man, assailed by vainglory, if he do
good not for the sake of vainglory, but ever fighteth against it, I say he shall
not lose the merit of the good he hath done, because he is tempted." A friar
said to Friar Giles, " It is told that St. Bernard once recited the seven peniten-
tial psalms with such peace of mind and such devotion that he thought of naught
save the proper meaning of the aforesaid psalms." Whereto Friar Giles thus
made answer, " My brother, I deem there is much more prowess in a lord that
holdeth his castle when it is besieged and assaulted by his enemies, defending
it so valiantly that he letteth not one of his enemies enter therein, than there
is in one that liveth in peace and hath no enemy."
X. Chapter of holy penitence.
A man ought ever to afflict himself much and mortify his body, and
suffer willingly every injury, tribulation, anguish, sorrow, shame, contempt,
reproach, adversity, and persecution, for love of our good Lord and Master,
Jesus Christ, who gave us the example in Himself; for from the first day of
His glorious Nativity, until His most holy Passion, He ever endured anguish,
tribulation, sorrow, contempt, pain, and persecution, solely for our salvation.
Therefore, if we would attain to a state of grace, it is above all things
necessary that we walk, as far as lieth in us, in the paths and in the footsteps of
our good Master, Jesus Christ. A Secular once asked of Friar Giles, saying,
" Father, in what way can we men in the world attain to a state of grace ? "
Whereto Friar Giles answered, " My brother, a man ought first to grieve
for his sins, with great contrition of heart, and then he should confess to
the priest with bitterness and sorrow of heart, accusing himself sincerely,
without concealment and without excuse ; then he must fulfil the penance
perfectly that is given and laid upon him by his confessor. Likewise, he
must guard himself against every vice and every sin, and against every
occasion of sin ; and also he must exercise himself in good and virtuous
works before God and towards his neighbour ; and, doing these things, a
ON HOLY PRAYER 163
man shall attain to a state of grace and of virtue. Blessed is that man
that hath continual sorrow for his sins, bewailing them ever, day and night,
in bitterness of heart, solely for the offences he hath done to God ! Blessed
is the man that hath ever before the eyes of his mind the afflictions and
the pains and the sorrows of Jesus Christ, and that for love of Him neither
desireth nor receiveth any temporal consolation in this bitter and stormy
world, until he attain to that heavenly consolation of life eternal, where all
his desires shall be fully satisfied with gladness."
XI. Chapter of holy prayer.
Prayer is the beginning, middle, and end of all good : prayer illumines
the soul, and through prayer the soul distinguishes good from evil. Every
sinful man ought to make this prayer with a fervent heart, every day
unceasingly ; to wit, let him pray humbly to God to give him a perfect
knowledge of his own misery and of his sins and of the blessings he hath
received, and doth receive, from this good God. But the man that knoweth
not how to pray, how shall he know God ? All those that would be
saved, if they are persons of true understanding, above all things it is necessary
that they be at last converted to holy prayer. Friar Giles said, " If a man
had a son, guilty of so many offences that he was condemned to death, or
to be banished from the city, of a surety this man would be very diligenti
and strive with all his might, both day and night, and at every hour, to
obtain pardon for this his son, and save him from death or banishment, making
earnest prayers and supplications, and giving presents or paying fines, to the
uttermost of his means, both of himself or through his friends and kinsfolk.
Therefore, if a man do this for his son who is mortal, how much more diligent
ought a man to be in beseeching God, by his own prayers and through the
prayers of good men in this world, and through His saints in the other
world, for his own soul that is immortal, when she is banished from the
celestial city, or doomed to everlasting death for sin and wickedness." A
friar said to Friar Giles, " Father, methinks a man ought to grieve much,
and be exceeding sorrowful, when he cannot have the grace of devotion
in his prayers." Whereto Friar Giles answered, " My brother, I counsel
thee, go very gently about thy business ; for if thou hadst a little good wine
in a cask, and in that cask the lees were still below this good wine, of
a surety thou wouldst not shake or move that cask about, lest thou mingle
the good wine with the lees. And so I say : as long as prayer is not free
from all carnal and sinful lust it shall receive no divine consolation ; for
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ON HOLY PRAYER
that prayer which is mingled with the lees of fleshly lust is not clear in
the sight of God. Therefore, a man ought to strive, with all his might,
to free himself from all lees of vicious lusts, in order that his prayers be
pure in the sight of God, and that he receive devotion and divine con-
solation therefrom." A friar asked Father Giles, saying, " Father, wherefore
doth this thing come to pass : that when a man is worshipping God he
is more sorely tempted, assailed, and troubled in his mind than at any
other time ? " Whereto Friar Giles thus answered, " When any man hath
a suit to further before a judge, and he goeth to plead his own cause, as
'twere asking counsel and aid, and his adversary heareth this, doth he not
straightway appear before the judge and oppose and gainsay the petition of
that man, and so give him great hindrance, as 'twere disproving all he said ?
Even so it befalleth when a man goeth forth to pray ; forasmuch as he asketh
God's help in his cause, straightway his adversary, the devil, appeareth with
his temptations and maketh great resistance and opposition, and striveth,
with all his might and cunning and devices, to hinder this prayer, so that
it be not acceptable in God's sight, and that the man may have neither
merit nor consolation from his prayers. And this we can see clearly, for
when we speak of worldly things, then do we suffer no temptation nor
distraction of mind, but if we go to prayer to delight and comfort the soul
with God, anon we feel our soul smitten with divers arrows, to wit, divers
temptations, which the devils put in our way to warp our minds, in order
that the soul have neither joy nor consolation from those things that the
said soul hath uttered to God." Friar Giles said that a prayerful man
was like unto a good knight at battle, who, albeit he were pierced or smitten
by his enemy, departeth not straightway from the battle, but rather resisteth
manfully to gain the victory over his enemy, in order that the victory being
won, he may be comforted and rejoice in that victory ; but if he departed
from the battle when he was smitten or wounded, of a surety he would suffer
confusion and shame and dishonour. And so should we do likewise ; to
wit, never depart from prayer for any temptation, but rather resist stoutly ;
for blessed is the man that endureth temptations, as the Apostle saith, for
by overcoming them he shall receive the crown of eternal life ; but if a
man cease from prayer because of temptations, of a surety he shall suffer
confusion, defeat, and discomfiture at the hands of his enemy, the devil."
A friar said to Friar Giles, " Father, I have seen certain men that have
received from God the grace of devotion and tears in their prayers, and
ON HOLY PRAYER 165
none of these graces can I feel when I pray unto God." Whereto Friar
Giles answered, " My brother, I counsel thee, labour faithfully and humbly
in thy prayers, for the fruits of the earth are not to be had without
much toil and labour beforehand ; and even after this labour the desired
fruit followeth not straightway before the time and season are come :
even so God giveth not this grace forthwith to a prayerful man until
the convenient time be come, and the mind be purged from every
carnal affection and sin. Therefore, my brother, labour humbly in thy
prayer ; for God, who is all-good and all-gracious, knoweth all things and
discerneth the better way : when the time and the season are come, He, of
His loving-kindness, will give much fruit of consolation." Another friar said
to Friar Giles, " What art thou doing, Friar Giles ? What art thou doing ? "
He answered, " I am doing ill." And that friar said, " What ill art thou
doing ? " Then Friar Giles turned to another friar and bespake him thus,
" Tell me, my brother, who thinkest thou is the readier, our God to grant us
His grace, or we to receive it ? " And that friar answered, " Of a surety, God
is more ready to give us His grace than we are to receive it." And then
Friar Giles said, " Then do we well ? " And that friar said, " Nay, we
do ill." And then Friar Giles turned to the first friar and said, " Behold,
brother, it is clearly shown that we do ill ; and what I answered was true, to wit,
that I am doing ill." Said Friar Giles, " Many works are commended and
praised by Holy Scripture, to wit, the works of mercy and other holy works ;
but when the Lord spake of prayer, He spake thus, ' Your heavenly Father
seeketh and desireth of men that they worship Him on earth in spirit and
in truth.' " Friar Giles said likewise that the true Religious are like unto
wolves ; for they seldom issue forth in public places save for hard necessity,
and incontinently do strive to return to their hiding-place without much
converse or dwelling with men. Good works adorn the soul, but, above
all other works, prayer adorns and illumines the soul. A friar, the companion
and familiar of Friar Giles, said, " Father, wherefore goest thou not sometimes
to discourse of the things of God, and teach and win the salvation of Christian
souls ? " Whereto Friar Giles answered, " My brother, I desire to fulfil my
duty to my neighbour with humility and without hurt to my soul, I mean by
prayer." And that friar said to him, "At least if thou went sometimes to
visit thy kinsfolk ! " And Friar Giles answered, " Knowest thou not that
Christ saith in the gospel, ' Every one that hath forsaken father or mother, or
brethren or sisters, or possessions, for My name's sake, shall receive a hundred-
1 66 ON PRUDENCE
fold.' " Again he said, " A man of noble birth entered the Order, whose
riches were worth perchance sixty thousand pounds : therefore, great rewards
await them that forsake great riches, for love of God ; since God giveth
them a hundredfold more. But blind are we that when we behold any man
virtuous and gracious in the sight of God ; we cannot understand his perfection
because of our own imperfection and blindness. But if a man were truly
spiritual, hardly would he desire to behold or to hear any man save for great
necessity ; for the truly spiritual man desireth ever to dwell apart from men,
and to be one with God through contemplation." Then said Friar Giles
to another friar, " Father, fain would I know, what is contemplation ? "
And that friar said, " Father, that truly know not I." And then Friar Giles
said, " Methinks the high grace of contemplation is a divine flame and a
sweet emanation of the Holy Ghost, and a rapture and an exaltation of the
mind, which is inebriated in the contemplation of that ineffable savour of
divine sweetness ; 'tis a sweet and peaceful and gentle delight of the soul that
is lifted up and rapt in great marvel at the glory of supernal and celestial
things — a burning inward sense of celestial and unspeakable glory."
XII. Chapter of holy spiritual prudence.
O servant of the King of heaven, thou that wouldst learn the mysteries
and the profitable and virtuous lessons of holy spiritual doctrine, open well the
ears of the understanding of thy soul, and receive with thy heart's desire, and
carefully keep in the chamber of thy memory, the precious treasure of these
doctrines and precepts and spiritual admonitions which I declare to thee :
thereby shalt thou be illumined and guided on thy journey — the journey of the
spiritual life — and shalt be defended from the wicked and cunning assaults
of thine enemies, real and shadowy, and shalt walk securely, with humble
boldness, voyaging on this stormy sea, to wit, of this present life, until thou
come to the longed-for haven of salvation. Therefore, my son, hearken and
mark well what I say unto thee. If thou wouldst see well, pluck out thine
eyes and be blind ; if thou wouldst hear well, be deaf ; if thou wouldst speak
well, be dumb ; if thou wouldst walk well, stand still and walk with thy
mind ; if thou wouldst work well, cut off thy hands and work with thy heart ;
if thou wouldst love well, hate thyself; if thou wouldst live well, mortify
thyself ; if thou wouldst gain well and grow rich, lose and be poor ; if thou
wouldst enjoy well and take thine ease, afflict thyself and be ever sorrowful ;
if thou wouldst dwell secure, be ever afeard and in dread of thyself ; if thou
wouldst be exalted and have great honour, abase and decry thyself ; if thou
ON KNOWLEDGE 167
wouldst be held in great reverence, despise thyself and do reverence unto them
that revile thee and spitefully use thee ; if thou wouldst have good always,
suffer ill always ; if thou wouldst be blessed, desire that all men curse thee
and speak evil of thee ; if thou wouldst have true and everlasting peace, labour
and afflict thyself, and desire every temporal affliction. O, how great is the
wisdom that knoweth and doeth these things ! But because these things are
great and very lofty, therefore are they vouchsafed by God to few men. But,
verily, whoso striveth well after all the aforesaid things, and doeth them,
I say he will need to go neither to Bologna nor to Paris to learn other
theology ; for if a man lived a thousand years, and had naught to do with
outward things and naught to say with his tongue, I say he would have
enough to do with the inward discipline of his heart, labouring within him
for the purgation and ruling and justification of his mind and of his soul.
A man should neither desire, nor behold, nor hear, nor discourse of aught
save in so far as it may be profitable to his soul. The man that knoweth not
himself is not known ; therefore, woe unto us that receive gifts and graces
from the Lord and understand them not ; but woe, and greater woe, unto
those that neither receive them nor know them, nor even care to gain them
or possess them ! Man that is made in the image of God changeth even as
he willeth, but the good God never changeth.
XIII. Chapter of profitable and unprofitable knowledge.
The man that would know much should work much, and humble himself
much, abasing himself and bowing down his head, so that his belly goeth on the
ground : then the Lord will give him much knowledge and wisdom. The
highest wisdom is to be steadfast in well-doing, working virtuously and well,
guarding oneself against every sin and every occasion of sin, ever meditating on
the judgments of God. Friar Giles said, on a time, to one that would go to
the schools to get knowledge, " My brother, wherefore wouldst thou go to
the schools ? I would have thee know that the sum of all knowledge is to fear
and to love, and let these two things suffice thee : for a man's knowledge
sufficeth for his works, and no more. Vex thee not overmuch for the profit
of others, but ever strive and further and do those things that are profitable to
thyself; for ofttimes this befalleth : we would gain much knowledge to help
others and little to help ourselves. I say unto thee, the word of God is not in
the speaker, nor in the hearer, but in the true worker. Men there have been
that knew not how to swim and entered the water to help those that were
drowning ; and it came to pass that they were all drowned together. If thou
1 68 ON GOOD AND
canst not save thine own soul, how shalt thou save the souls of thy neigh-
bours ? If thou canst not profit thyself, how shalt thou profit another ? for it
cannot be that thou lovest another's soul more than thine own. The preacher
of God's word ought to be the standard-bearer, the torch and the mirror of the
people. Blessed is the man that in such wise guideth others in the way of salva-
tion and himself ceaseth not to walk in that way of salvation ! Blessed is the man
that in such wise inviteth others to run and himself ceaseth not to run ! But
more blessed is he that in such wise aideth others to gain and be rich, and himself
ceaseth not to gain riches. I believe the good preacher admonishes and preaches
more unto himself than to others. Methinks, the man that would convert and
draw sinners to the paths of God should ever fear lest he be evilly perverted
by them and drawn astray to the paths of sin and of the devil and of hell."
XIV. Chapter of good and of evil speaking.
The man that uttereth good words and profitable to souls is verily as
'twere the mouth of the Holy Spirit ; and likewise the man that uttereth
evil and unprofitable words is, of a surety, the mouth of the devil. Whenever
good and spiritual men are assembled to discourse together they ought ever to
speak of the beauty of virtue, in order that virtue be more pleasing to them,
and that they may delight the more therein ; for by delighting and taking
more pleasure in virtue, the more will they be disciplined therein, and by
exercising themselves therein they will be kindled to greater love thereof ; and
by that unceasing love and exercise of virtue, and by pleasure therein, they will
ever rise to more fervent love of God and to a higher state of the soul ; for which
cause more gifts and more divine graces shall be vouchsafed to them by the
Lord. The more a man is tempted the greater heed hath he to discourse of the
holy virtues ; for even as a man ofttimes falleth lightly into sinful deeds through
evil and sinful talk, so ofttimes through discoursing of virtue a man is lightly
led and disposed to the holy works of virtue. But how shall we tell of the
good that cometh from virtue ? For it is so exceeding great that we cannot
speak worthily of its marvellous and infinite excellence. And also, what shall
we say of the evil and everlasting torments that proceed from sin ? For it is an
evil so great, and an abyss so deep, that it is impossible for us to comprehend
or to fathom it, or, in sooth, to speak thereof. I deem it no lesser virtue to
know how to keep silence well than to know how to speak well : therefore
methinks a man hath need of a neck as long as the crane's, so that when he
would speak, his words would pass through many joints before they came to his
mouth, I mean that when a man would speak, it were needful that he should
EVIL SPEAKING 169
think and think again, and examine and discern right well, the how and the why,
the time and the manner, and the condition of his hearers and the effect on his
own self and his purpose and motives.
XV. Chapter of good perseverance.
What doth it profit a man to fast much and pray and give alms
and afflict himself with the overpowering sense of heavenly things if he
come not to the blessed haven of the salvation he desireth ; to wit, the
haven of good and steadfast perseverance ? Some time this cometh to pass :
a certain ship, very fair and mighty and strong and new, and filled with
great riches, is seen on the seas ; and it befalleth that through some tempest,
or through the fault of the helmsman, this ship perisheth and is wrecked,
and miserably sunk, and cometh not to the desired haven. What then availed
all her beauty and goodness and riches since she perished thus miserably
in the great waters of the sea ? And, likewise, on a time, some little ship
and old, appeareth on the sea, with small merchandise ; but having a good
and skilful helmsman, she weathers the storm and escapeth from the deep
waters of the sea and cometh to the desired haven ; and so it befalleth
men in this stormy sea of the world. Therefore, said Friar Giles, a man
ought ever to fear ; and albeit he abide in great prosperity, or in high estate,
or in great dignity, or in great perfection, if he have not a good helmsman,
to wit, a wise rule over himself, he may miserably perish in the deep waters
of sin. Therefore, above all things, perseverance is needful for well-doing,
as the Apostle saith, " Not he that beginneth, but he that persevereth to
the end shall win the crown." When a tree springeth up, it doth not straight-
way wax great ; and after it hath become great, it doth not forthwith yield
fruit ; and when it beareth fruit, not all that fruit cometh to the mouth
of the lord of that tree ; for much of that fruit falleth on the ground, or
rots or is spoiled ; and such as this is eaten by the beasts : but yet, persevering
until the proper season, the lord of that tree gathereth the greater part of
the fruit thereof. Again, Friar Giles said, " What would it profit me if I
tasted full a hundred years of the kingdom of heaven if thereafter I came
not to a good end ? " And also he said, " I deem that these are the two
greatest graces and gifts of God to him that can gain them in this life, to
wit, to persevere with love in the service of God and ever guard himself
from falling into sin.
XVI. Of the true religious life.
Friar Giles was wont to say, speaking of himself, " I would rather, as
Y
17 o ON RELIGIOUS LIFE
a Religious in the Order, have a little of the grace of God than I would,
as a Secular, living in the world, have many graces of God ; for many more
are the perils and hindrances in the world, and much less the healing and
the help than in the religious life." Friar Giles also said, " Methinks the
sinful man is more afraid of his good than he is of his hurt and his evil ;
for he fears to enter the religious life and do penance, but fears not to
offend God and injure his own soul by remaining in the hard and stubborn
world and in the filthy mire of his own sins, awaiting his eternal doom at
last." A Secular asked Friar Giles, saying, "Father, what dost thou counsel
me to do ? Shall I enter the religious life, or shall I remain in the world
and do good works ? " Whereto Friar Giles answered, " My brother, if any
needy man knew that a great treasure lay hidden in the common field, of
a surety he would not ask counsel of any man to know whether it were
good to dig it out and carry it to his own house ; how much the more
ought a man to strive and make haste, with all care and diligence, to search
out that heavenly treasure which is found in the holy orders of religion,
and in spiritual communities, without so much asking of counsel ? " And
that Secular when he heard this answer, anon gave away all he possessed
to the poor, and thus stripped of everything entered the Order. Friar
Giles was wont to say that many men entered the religious life and yet
put not those things into practice and into operation that pertain to the
perfect state of the holy religious life ; but that such as these are like
unto that ploughman that armed himself with the arms of Roland, and
knew not how to fight or wield them. Not every man knoweth how
to ride a restive and vicious horse, and if he yet bestrode it, perchance
he would know not how to save himself from falling when the horse ran
or reared. Again, Friar Giles said, " I deem it no great thing that a man
may know how to enter the court of the king, nor do I esteem it a great
thing that a man may know how to win some of the king's graces or
favours ; but the great thing is that he know how to stand well, and
abide in, and frequent the king's court while persevering in prudence
according to what is meet and fitting. The state of the court of that great
King of heaven, is the holy religious life, wherein is no great labour to
enter and receive some gifts and graces from God ; but the great thing
is, that a man shall know how to live well and persevere therein discreetly,
even unto death." Yet again, Friar Giles said, " I would rather live in the
world, and hope and desire unceasingly and devoutly to enter the religious
ON HOLY OBEDIENCE 171
life, than be clothed in the habit of the holy religious life without the
practice of virtuous works, and continue in sloth and negligence. There-
fore, the Religious ought ever to strive to live well and virtuously, knowing
that he cannot live in any other state than in his professed vows." Once
Friar Giles said, " Methinks the Order of the friars minor was truly sent
of God for the profit and the edification of the people ; but woe unto us
friars if we be not such men as we ought to be. Of a surety, in this life no
more blessed men than we could be found ; for he is holy that followeth holiness,
and he is truly good that walketh in the way of the good, and he is rich that
goeth the way of the rich ; for the Order of the friars minor, more than any
other Order, followeth the footsteps and the ways of the best, the richest,
and the holiest that ever was or ever shall be, to wit, our Lord Jesus Christ.
XVII. Chapter of holy obedience.
The more bound under the yoke of holy obedience the Religious is, for
love of God, the greater fruit of himself he will yield unto God ; and the
more he is subject to his superior, for God's honour, the more free and more
cleansed shall he be from his sins. The truly obedient Religious is like unto a
knight well armed and well horsed that breaks fearlessly through the ranks of
his enemies and scatters them, because none of them can do him hurt. But
he that obeys with murmurings, and as one driven, is like unto an unarmed
and ill-horsed knight, that when he joineth battle shall be dragged to the
ground by his enemies and wounded and taken by them, and sometimes cast
into prison and slain. The Religious that would live according to the deter-
mination of his own will, showeth that he would build a perpetual habitation
in the abyss of hell. When the ox putteth his neck under the yoke, then he
plougheth the earth well, so that it bringeth forth good fruit in due season ;
but when the ox goeth wandering around, the ground is left unfilled and wild,
and giveth not fruit in its season. Even so the Religious that bendeth his
neck under the yoke of obedience yieldeth much fruit to the Lord God in his
time ; but he that is not obedient with a good heart to his superior, is barren
and wild and without any fruit from his vows. Wise and great-hearted men
bend their necks readily, without fear and without doubt, under the yoke of
holy obedience ; but foolish and faint-hearted men strive to wrest their necks
from under the yoke of holy obedience, and then would obey no creature. I
deem it a greater perfection in the servant of God to obey his superior with a
pure heart, for reverence and love of God, than it would be to obey God in
person if He commanded him : for he that is obedient to the Lord's vicar
Y 2
172. ON DEATH
would surely obey sooner the Lord Himself if He commanded him. Methinks
also that if any man having the grace of speaking with angels had promised
obedience to another, and it befell, that while he was standing and discoursing
with these angels this other man to whom he had promised obedience called
him, I say, that straightway he ought to leave his converse with the angels
and run to do that obedience, for honour of God. He that hath put his neck
under the yoke of holy obedience, and then would draw back his neck from
under that obedience, that he might follow a life of greater perfection, I say,
that if he be not first perfect in the state of obedience, it is a sign of great
pride that lieth hidden in his soul. Obedience is the way that leadeth to every
good and every virtue, and disobedience is the way to every evil and every vice.
XVIII. Chapter of the remembrance of death.
If a man had the remembrance of his death and of the last eternal judg-
ment and of the pains and the torments of damned souls ever before the eyes of
his mind, of a surety, nevermore would the desire come upon him to sin or to
offend God. But if it were possible that any man had lived from the begin-
ning of the world, even to the time that now is, and during all this time had
endured every advers-ity, tribulation, pain, affliction, and sorrow, and if he
were to die, and his soul should go to receive everlasting reward in heaven,
what hurt would all that ill he had endured in past times do him ? And
so, likewise, if a man during all the aforesaid time had had every good thing
and every joy and pleasure and consolation the world could give, and then
when he died his soul should receive the everlasting pains of hell, what would
all the good things he had received, during that past time, profit him ? An
unstable man said to Friar Giles, " I tell thee, fain would I live much time in
this world and have great riches and abundance of all things, and I would be
greatly honoured." Whereto Friar Giles answered, " My brother, but if thou
wert lord of all the world, and shouldst live therein for a thousand years in
very joy and delight and pleasure and temporal consolation, ah, tell me, what
reward or what merit wouldst thou expect to have from this thy miserable
flesh which thou hast served and pleased so greatly ? I say unto thee, that the
man who liveth well in the sight of God, and guardeth him well from offend-
ing God, he shall surely receive from God the highest good and an infinite and
everlasting reward, and great bounty and great riches, and great honour and
long life eternal in that perpetual glory of heaven, whereunto may the good
God, our Lord and King Jesus Christ, bring us, to the praise of Jesus Christ
and of His poor little one, Francis."
APPENDIX
I. How St. Francis being met by a bishop in full pontificals turned aside to
tread potter s clay.
St. Francis, on a time, being at St. Mary of the Angels, called Friar
Masseo of Marignano and said to him, " Brother, let us go and preach the
word of God." And they went towards the parts of Rome. And as they
drew nigh to a city the bishop of that city, having heard the fame of St.
Francis's sanctity and being ware of his coming, arrayed himself in pontificalia
and issued forth with his clergy to receive him outside the city. And when
St. Francis heard of this he said to his companion, " Brother, this is to our
confusion," who answered, " Wherefore ? " And St. Francis said, " Seest
thou not that these are come apparelled thus to do us honour ? What
shall we do ? I pray unto God that He may deliver us from this shame."
His companion said, " What can we do ? To turn back and flee is a vile
thing. Let us do the best we may." And as the bishop with his clergy
were already nigh, St. Francis looked and beheld a mass of potter's clay
outside the road which was prepared for the use of that craft, to wit, for
the making of earthern vessels. And straightway, having lifted up his skirts,
even as those are wont to do who work up clay or tread the wine press,
he entered that mass of clay and began stoutly to tread and work it up
with his feet. Seeing which, the bishop, despising him as a fool, turned
back with his procession leaving St. Francis treading the clay. But St.
Francis, after he had entered the city, went to the bishop and was received
by him with much devotion and reverence ; and having craved permission
to preach to his people the bishop freely gave him licence to preach and
establish there a friary and moreover did promise to lend him his aid in all
things.1
1 San Francisco de Asis, pp. 307, 308.
'73
174 APPENDIX
II. How a very religious Friar and of great sanctity was unable through
lack of fear to resist the temptations of the devil and became an apostate.
Friar Leo was wont to relate that there lived a friar in the Order in
the time of St. Francis whose sanctity was so great that he was regarded
as another of the Apostles. At length this friar left the Order and since
his departure he shone forth in such excellency that, so far as outward show
went, he seemed to attain to a state of apostolic perfection, nor appeared to
be puffed up in any wise by the fame of the holiness of the life that he
seemed to practise in the Order. Then, on a day, as Friar Leo and certain
other friars were journeying along the way with St. Francis the question
was propounded among them — Why the said friar left the Order ? And St.
Francis answering said, " I desire to read you a lesson : do ye set about
answering me and solve the difficulty. But let none answer until I have
ended." And he began saying, " Humility, Humility, Humility ! " And
repeating that word two or three times, he said, " Knowest thou well ? "
and then he answered, " Yea." And in the same wise St. Francis named
many virtues, saying : — Chastity, Abstinence, Poverty, Obedience, etc., etc.,
repeating each of them many times ; and asking, " Knowest thou well ? " he
answered, "Yea." But at the end of the lesson St. Francis said many
times, " Fear, Fear, Fear ! " And when he said, " Knowest thou well ? " he
answered, " No." And once again he said, " Fear," repeating it many times ;
and then, asking in the same way, " Knowest thou well ? " he answered,
" No." And thus asking many and many times he answered in the same
manner. But at the end he answered softly, "Yea," and added, "Through
lack of Fear that virtuous friar fell and left the Order. For in vain doth
a man add virtue to virtue if he have not Fear, which few possess." '
III. How St. Francis, eating with St. Clare, remained lifted up a long time ana
how he was reproved therefore by Friar Angelo.
On a time St. Francis called to Friar Angelo in the friary of St. Mary
of the Little Portion, saying, " Let us go to see Sister Clare." And Friar
Angelo answered, " Let us go." And when they had passed in converse the
time up to the hour of refection, St. Francis sat down to eat, and with
him at table were certain other friars. And when he had eaten four
mouthfuls of bread he lifted up his eyes to heaven and remained thus
entranced for a long time ; and when he returned to himself he called with
a loud voice, saying, " The Lord be praised ! " And he rose from the table
and flung himself on the ground and straightway was lifted up. But Friar
1 San Francisco de Asis, pp. 284, 285.
APPENDIX 175
Angelo did not quit him and remained there and was always present. And
he remained there as long as one might journey to St. Mary's and return
thence, which is about the distance of three miles. And when St. Francis
returned to himself Friar Angelo assumed a manner of reproof, according as
I have heard said of him, and cried, " Brother, thou wouldst that I correct
and reprove thee for those things that are not seemly. I say unto thee
thou shouldst regard the season and the hour for these things ; thou hast
other times enow to do this and not when thou art eating with the friars."
Then St. Francis answered him saying, " Brother, I could not act otherwise
than I did." And when Friar Angelo desired to know why and wherefore,
the blessed father said to him, " I command thee by obedience that thou
tell no one concerning these things while I live." And continuing he said,
" When I sat at table the Lord spake to me and said, ' Francis, I promise
thee life everlasting and confirm thee that thou neither shalt nor canst lose
it.' And because of this great joy I could not contain me, and St. Francis
remained in such ecstasy that for a space of eight days he could not keep
the canonical hours for very joy, but continuing in praises ever said,
" The Lord be praised ! " " The Lord be praised ! " '
IV. How a Spanish Friar was rapt in contemplation.
As our father St. Francis desired that the brethren should devote
themselves to prayer or to some good work, he rejoiced greatly when he heard
that the friars who dwelt in a friary in Spain thus divided their time : to wit,
that week by week, alternate, one part of them had care of household things and
the others betook themselves to prayer and contemplation. Now it happened
on a time that one of those engaged in contemplation came not to table and
was found prostrate on the ground extended in the form of a cross, and seeming
neither by gesture nor by movement to be alive. And at his head and at
his feet there shone a light that illumined the cell with wondrous splendour.
Then being left in peace and the light being suddenly spent, this friar returned
to himself and coming straightway to table confessed his fault in that he was
late.2
V. How St. Francis taught Friar Stephen the need of discretion.
It was told by a friar whose name was Stephen, and whom St. Francis
had clothed with the habit and received into the Order, that being for many
months in a friary with St. Francis he had care of the kitchen and of the
table. And this was the manner of their life according to the command and
will of St. Francis : to wit, to remain silent and in prayer until the said Friar
1 San Francisco de Asis, pp. 327, 328. 2 Ibid. p. 275.
176 APPEND IX
Stephen called them to refection by the sound of a tile. Now it was the
custom of St. Francis to issue forth from his cell about the hour of Tierce, and
if at any time he saw no light in the kitchen he gathered a handful of herbs
and quietly calling Friar Stephen said to him, " Go, dress these herbs a little
and it will be well with the friars." And Friar Stephen said that many
times when he had cooked some eggs and cheese which had been given him,
St. Francis, with joyful mind, dined with the friars and praised the prudence
of his cook. And sometimes he said with a troubled mien, " Brother, thou
hast laboured much, wherefore I desire that to-morrow thou preparest nought."
And, fearfully, he fulfilled the will of St. Francis. And when on the morrow
St. Francis beheld the table spread with pieces of bread of divers loaves,
joyfully he sat down with the friars ; but at times he said, " Friar Stephen,
why didst thou not prepare us something to eat ? " Who answering said
" Because thou toldest me to prepare nought." And St. Francis said,
" Brother, discretion is a good thing : the commands of the prelates are not
always to be fulfilled to the letter." !
VI. How St. Francis bade Friar Angelo reprove him if he failed to obey the
Lord 's commands.
On a time while St. Francis was engaged in prayer Jesus Christ appeared
to him, and when St. Francis beheld Him, rejoicing and fearing, he used these
among other words which he spake to Him, " Lord, already have I given
unto Thee all things that I possess, to wit, my soul and my body : naught
have I more." And the Lord answered and said, " True it is ; yet one thing
more I desire of thee, to wit, that thou ever doest well, or sayest well, or
thinkest well." Whereat straightway he repaired to Friar Angelo, who was
nearer to his bosom than all the other friars, and told him all that the Lord
had said, and bade him remind him or reprove him when he failed to do any
of these things. And Friar Angelo answered him thus : " Willingly, father,
but for a thought that is not good I cannot reprove thee." And St. Francis
said, " Thou speakest sooth as to thoughts, but never pardon me for lack
of good deeds." 2
VII. Of the contrition of a disobedient Friar.
St. Francis on a time commanded a friar to go to a place of lepers and
serve them diligently ; but the friar went away unwillingly and despised the
obedience. And when St. Francis asked whether this friar had gone or not, and
he was answered, " No," he said to the other friars, " Methought I had men
1 San Francisco de Asis, pp. 273, 274. 2 Ibid. p. 276.
APPENDIX 177
who were dead,1 and I have them living ; but go ye straightway and bury that
friar." And when the grave was digged they called him, who with angry mind
answered and gave himself up quickly and placed himself in the grave, flinging
himself therein, saying, " Cast in the earth and cover me. And the friars
began to cover him, beginning with the feet, and as they threw some earth in,
he, touched with inward contrition, began to weep bitterly, saying, " Now hath
the devil departed from me ; cover me securely, for of such death am I worthy."
And beholding this the friars went to St. Francis and related to him, word for
word, that friar's contrition. And St. Francis bade call him and said to him,
" Choose any house of the friars where thou mayest be most consoled, and remain
there under obedience." And that friar answered, " Nay, father, rather is
that penance which thou gavest consoling to me beyond all others." And
St. Francis said to him, " Go in peace with God's blessing." 2
VIII. How Friar Jumper set about begging for food and lodging.
Friar Herman, lector at Breslau, heard one, Friar John, tell (who on a time
was the companion of St. Francis) that a certain friar, Juniper by name, was
sent with other friars to seek a place for a friary. And as they fared on their
way, his three companions chose Friar Juniper to procure the things necessary
for them as they journeyed. And at the hour of refection they came to a
village, and having entered therein, Friar Juniper began to cry in a loud voice
in the Latin or Italian tongue, " Non nu albergate ! Non nu rechiate ! Non nu
fate bene !* Non bene vestìtu !" and this so often that the friars grew angry and
reproved him saying, " Why dost thou shout thus instead of procuring us the
needful food ? " To whom Friar Juniper answered, " Let me cry since ye have
chosen me for your procurator." And the folk of the village marvelled not a
little on beholding the strange attire of these men and their unwonted way of
begging, until one of the villagers who had observed them most narrowly,
called to them and prayed them to tell what manner of men they might be and
wherefore they shouted thus. Said Friar Juniper, " We be sinful men and
penitents. We lack the things, necessary for this life ; but we are not worthy
to be entertained or to be received, or to be well treated, for we have offended God
1 See Life of St. Francis by St. Bonaventura, Chap. VI. When once it was enquired of him what
man should be deemed truly obedient he set before them as an ensample the similitude of a dead body.
" Lift up," saith he, "a dead body and place it where thou wilt. Thou shalt see it will not murmur at
being moved, it will not complain of where it is set, it will not cry out if left there, etc., etc."
2 San Francisco de Asis, p. 279.
3 " Don't lodge us ! Don't receive us ! Don't treat us well ! Don't clothe us well ! "
z
178 APPENDIX
with grievous sins." Hearing these words and being moved to devotion, this
villager received them into his house and gave them to eat, and entertained
them with his best. And listening to these servants of God, who were illumined
with the Holy Spirit, and beholding their sincerity, he entreated them,
whenever they might be near, always to pass by way of his house, and he also
prayed them to send him other friars.1
IX. Friar Juniper ana the Youth who became Friar "Joachim.
Friar Joachim, sacristan of Florence, told me that when he was a youth
in the world, he had a desire to see Friar Juniper who, coming forth willingly
to meet him, asked what he desired of him. To whom the youth answered,
" Brother, I would that you preach to me a little." And Friar Juniper said,
" Willingly." Then, meditating a while, with eyes raised to heaven, he began
with great fervour, " Blessed are the poor in spirit," and continued as far as
the last Beatitude. And then he began to say by contrary, " Cursed are the
lovers of riches," and so forth by contrary, of all the other Beatitudes ; whereat
the youth was wondrously astonied. And when Friar Juniper said to him,
" What more dost thou seek. ? " The youth answered, " I would enter the
Order ; but first I would know how to sing the chant." To whom the brother
answered, " Come, my son, I will have thee taught." And he led him into the
city and having sought out a certain priest, he asked him to teach the youth
the chant, and give him to eat, and " I," said the brother, " will repay thee well."
And that priest for reverence of Friar Juniper willingly agreed, and for half a
year taught the youth music and fed him. And yet Friar Juniper knew not
that youth. But when half a year had passed the youth went away, nor did
he enter the Order until a long time after, as he himself told me.2
1 San Francisco de Asis, pp. 310, 311. 2 Ibid. p. 312.
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